Hunger Games: a Timetravelers Paradox
by Demonkakan
Summary: I have not had a beta for this fic: you are warned! One of Beetee's experiments goes wrong and Katniss travels back in time. She has to start her adventures from the beginning; one hellish step at the time, not knowing what to change and what to not change. But one thing is clear; Prim must not die!
1. Part I: the beginning, again!

**Hunger Games; **

**a **

**Time-travelers paradox**

by

Demonkakan

The original work belongs to Suzanne Collins and her publishers or any other co-owner. I'm merely borrowing her epic work to make my own spin; the idea of a time-travel simply refusing to leave me alone, so I had to write it.

_I'm making no profits from this and the story isn't that good, if you haven't read Collins magnificent work I suggest you do. My messy fanfic is but a gnat in her shadow. __If anyone is offended I'm very sorry._


	2. Chapter 1 & 2

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**Part I**

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The original work belongs to Suzanne Collins and her publishers or any other co-owner. I'm merely borrowing her epic work to make my own spin; the idea of a time-travel simply refusing to leave me alone, so I had to write it.

_I'm making no profits from this and the story isn't that good, if you haven't read Collins magnificent work I suggest you do. My messy fanfic is but a gnat in her shadow. __If anyone is offended I'm very sorry._

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Chapter 1

I'm looking around, feeling cold without Peeta by my side. My fingers are numbed from gripping the wineglass to hard and my posture is stiff and slightly unfriendly, but not in the aggressive sense since that would be dangerous.

Peeta left me an hour ago, but it feels like a lifetime since people won't stop bothering me. The curse to bear when you're a surviving tribute and a war hero. I hate being here it; these things always make me feel dirty. I'm stuck in a room full with judgmental rich people, the so called winners of the war; the new high-shots of the districts.

This time it´s a formal function to celebrate the revolt against the old regime, held at the same time every year. Still not used to them.

Anyone that's anyone is here tonight and since I'm the '_Girl on fire'_ I suppose I have a place amongst them. Even the killing of the hag Coin can´t stop that fact, though I don´t play a central role in the celebration; that role is for the other tributes, famous officers and rebels.

A fact for which I am grateful for, the political climate isn't my turf. As it is I feel like a fish caught on dry land. So what if it´s about ten year since I entered the Hunger Games and became their freedom-symbol? I don't want any part in celebrating it. I did what I had to do to survive; _*in the process destroying district twelve, causing Prim´s and Finnick's deaths and so much other horrible things*,_ nothing to be happy or proud about.

But Peeta is the socialist and charismatic one of us and if he says we have to attend every year to keep our family safe, then I will attend and look overjoyed about it. At least for the first half hour when everyone seems to only have eyes for us. So here I am three hours later and bored to death, irritated and alone; dinning with the elite in a mock gesture of unity. Not that the new rule-system is that different from the old one.

The district's war against the Capitol left one to twelve weak and vulnerable. Even now there is still rebuilding being done in large parts of the different districts; an attempt to consolidate Panem into one united nation. It is as president Snow said. If we turn against the capitol Panem would start dying. The Panem we had and the Panem we got wasn't what we fought for. What I fought for.

District thirteen now has the gun power and main resources - thus giving them jurisdiction and power to take a leading role in the rebuilt of a new government. Strange how they had managed to be the least war torn district and no one realizing it. District thirteen has used us to win their war and we love them for it.

To voice that thought out loud would lead to death and I have a family to think about. Acting on my own have already lead to my sister's death, and many others. I'm not doing the same mistake again. So I smile cold and stiff at the mingling crowd and wish Peeta quick return before I do something stupid.

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Another hour passes.

I can't stand this people for much longer, not alone anyway.

At time like this I mourn the fact I'm not like Johanna. She is standing in the middle of the party, insulting anyone who dares to approach her. Her wife Enobaria egging her on. Johanna never really changed, she will forever look like a pissed of warrior-god, ready to take on the world and anyone who wrongs her. Enobaria completing her with her fierce temper, bloodlust and stubbornness. I still don't understand why it took so long before they found each other.

However, unlike Johanna and Enobaria if I would speak my mind chaos would follow because I'm the '_girl on fire'_ and when I speak city falls and people die. So for years I have held my tongue and bore the idiocy of the people around me. Still a puppet with strings, only the controller shifted.

Suddenly I get goose-bumps along my arms and a familiar smell fills my nose. _**Gale**_. I close my eye and leave my face blanker than before. Knowing that I can´t allow him to discovering my real thoughts or feelings.

Many years have passed but the pain Gale causes me with his mere presence has never lessened, mostly because of his part in my sister's death. His love for district thirteen further hurting our bond; The last time I confided in him he reported me to the new leaders because he was concerned off my behavior. Within three days of that event I was collected, in the middle of the day in front of my own house.

For seven months I was subjected to everything president _Casipor_ and his party could think off. Mostly for my earlier crime concerning Coin, as well as the threat I could be to the new regime. All in the name of making me well. Saying to everyone that I had snapped and needed care. Peeta and Haymitch was the sole reasons I was freed, they coached me until I could lie my way out of there. For the first time ever I really learned how to make a convincing act. Though Peeta and Haymitch still say I'll never be a pro.

It had taken a lot of will and a heavy dose of self-preservation to be able to talk normally to Gale again. But it had been one of the conditions to get my freedom, so I had made amends with him. At least as far as they know.

I turn around and force a bigger smile to my face. Pretending to just notice him. His smile is wide and warm and I'm suddenly desperately for Peeta's presence; the man in front of me never approaches when we are together, thus preventing my mask from cracking.

"Catnap." A baritone voice says cheerfully, a pair of similar grey eyes as mine looking at me with soft warmth. He is so alike me in looks, but where he's warm I am cold. Like it has always been.

"Gale." I say back, I clear my throat when I notice the coldness in my voice."How are you? Still enjoy leading the science-department in thirteenth?"

His eyes bore into mine as if he tries to find something. I repeat the mantra Peeta taught me so long ago: _smile until you truly are smiling, be pleasant until you truly are pleasant and no matter what __**never**__ let them see any truth but the truth you want them to see_. I try to broaden my already wide smile and relax my body language a bit more.

Whatever Gale is looking for he doesn´t find it and his smile is back within seconds. His mood betrays him, he's buying my act and I can breathe easy. Gale gets more aggressive in his ways and his smile a stiff grimace when he suspects someone of lying, whilst Peeta is the opposite; he gets calmer, withdrawn and more charming.

"I´m good Katniss, still bossing my little minions around and enjoying my life. You should come and visit sometime, you would surely love it. It has really sprung out of the ground…" He says and laughs.

Sure, like I would love shooting of an arm_._ I will never set my foot in district thirteen again. They were lucky as it was that the majority of the parties was in district one or the former Capitol or Peeta would never get me to come.

"Sounds like fun. The district finally coming up into the light and spreading their seeds above ground." I say in a mock jester and laugh to take the sting off. After all I can´t be too positive, that would be unlike me. "Must be much ruckus going on, a place where there's always something to do, someone in need and new discoveries." I continue in an admiring tone, adoringly looking into his eyes.

"A far cry from boring district twelve and well _here_… After all we are using an 'old place' to have a party in." I finish. Sweeping my hand to direct Gales gaze to the room surrounding us.

As it was this year's party were taking place in former presidents Snow's residence and the white walls of the ballroom and the lingering smell of roses is making me nauseous. Together with my current bootlicking I soon will puke for real. I hate this house with every fiber of my being but I have to swallow my disgust and bare it. It's only for a couple of hours anyways and then I'm on my way home again. Far away from the Capitol, the party, the people, the city, the regime, the pain and Gale.

Biting my tongue I force my smile wider, swallowing my nausea, taking a step closer. I let my perfume surround his senses, knowing that he will get aroused and enticed. I have always had this power over Gale and now use it shamelessly to my advantage. The only way to be sure that Gale doesn't look any closer; for me to have control in our dealings with each other.

For a while we small-talk and drink our wine, pretending to be Gale and Katniss from the gutter of district twelve; not two war-torn survivors whose twentysix years old. During this time I laugh, joke and behave like were friends. Even though I despise him for his actions, a bitter anger shimmering below the surfaces. Forever tarnishing our friendship.

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If not for the lessons learned during the Hunger Games I would have crack under the pressure of maintaining my mask. the easy banter being the hardest. Gale eventually starts talking about more serious and darker subjects. Unknowingly confiding in me his secrets, mostly do to the closeness we once shared. Most of it centers around the new outbreak of the pox in district six. How they're working for a solution.

"So you must be working on something good, after all I have hardly seen Beetee; or heard from you guys in several months…" I inquire with a curious tone and just as I thought he jumps at the chance to tell me about his new project.

"No, nothing insignificant like that, that is for the other teams. Beetee has a much more vital project: new weapon-prototypes and upgrading the army's safety-gear. The old standard equipment was outdated… He's also trying out a new prototype that is very exciting." Gale exclaims excitedly. He clearly believes that I will find this project as fascinated as he does.

"It´s a handgun that can for a couple of seconds stop or slow down whatever is in front of it. We are hoping that it will work in a bigger form later on, but it has shown great potential in the test runs." Gale states, getting lost in the success of his new creation and dives into a long and boring description of his new project.

I can only feel sick the more he talks. It's clear that the prototype is meant for war. To incapacitate an enemy without casualty. The question being as to why they would need it? The land is in peace and no-one is in a hurry to start a war. There´s no enemies. Or so I'd thought anyway.

"That´s a good! It will be a good thing to have at parties." I say, laughing a bit nervously and stiff. "Just imagine stopping fruits in the air, or drinks. Can be the perfect party-gadget." I exclaim, hoping to stop Gale from talking more about it. The thought of more war or fighting is bringing back terrible memories. Memories best left in the past to be forgotten.

Gale looks at me with disappointed eyes; he doesn't appreciate my laughter even though he´s smiling, keeping up the appearance for the other guest.

"That a good idea!" He tries to say in a cheerfully tone, failing miserable. He soon tries to find another topic to talk about. I don´t come to his aid. "… But moving on. What are you wearing! Wasn't it suppose to be formal wear today?" Gale say says in a teasing voice, bringing attention to my clothes in an attempt to move away from the former topic. I let him.

I look down at myself. I had forgone the formal dress-wear command and was dressed in a high-waist forest-green ankle-length skirt that followed my curves and a long-sleeved sweater with a high collar, decorated with forest-leafs, that ended just under my bosom.

Where Gales and the rest of the party had their hair combed back and tamed, I had forgone the usual braid and had left my hair down and flowing wild. I had decided that if I couldn't speak I could still make silent protest in other ways. I thought that my use of fashion was a good way to go since it honored Cinna and showed that I was not yet tamed.

I gave away a snicker; my hair billowing in front of my face as I move my shoulders in a fake jester of laughter.

"Oh! So that was why Peeta gave me such a strange look before we left home. I didn't remember. Oh well, at least I'm an original tonight." I said to Gale and gestured at my clothes. He soon joined me in the laughter and the few bystanders we had gathered laugh weakly with us but soon walks on.

I in turn study him. The Gale before me is far from the boy I used to know; in front of me is a tall, built and proud man dressed in an expensive two-piece-suit. The suits long black pants, four button jacket with a left side breast-pocket and midnight-blue shirt brings out his charisma and strength. Every single women and men in the room clearly wanted to be associated with him. Gale had taken to the attention from the start and clearly tried to dress the part.

"Well! You have at least dressed the part. That suit looks amazing on you Gale. Who is your tailor?" I ask in a serious voice. Looking truly interested but not really. He takes a quick look at himself and looks pleased.

"I got to use president Casipor´s private tailor since it was such a big event; That man has really become a mentor towards me. By the way, don't you think it's time you get proper help for Haymitch? His drinking will soon kill him you know." Gale looks really worried.

Understandable since earlier today Effie had been, together with Cesar, commenting on the event; at least until a drunken Haymitch had stumbled into the party. Dressed in an ugly old suit, seemingly made out of three older ones. The reaction had been instant as Effie had marched down from her screen-room and forcibly dragged Haymitch away to get changed and somewhat sober.

"Yeah! Probably, but Haymitch is not interested in becoming sober so I don't think that will go over well."

Haymitch had already been forced into three rehab-programs by me and Peeta. He had escaped from all of them and giving us the cold shoulder for months after.

"By the ways… Where is Beetee? I haven't seen him yet." I inquire when the laughter dies. Gale gives me an odd look and shrugs his shoulders

"He is back at the thirteen, too tired to come along and enjoy the evening." Is his evasive answer. I just nod and take a drink from my half-forgotten glass.

Gale is obviously lying and with his eyes flickering to the northern windows my best guess is that Beetee is at the local science lab; playing with his toys. It's no secret that thirteen's development successes is all thanks to the genius bright mind.

Beetee had been in touch with me these past few days, wanting me to come see him at the next get-together. I have to drop in before I go home. Firstly for Beetee's sake and secondly to mess with Gale a bit. I may not be able to speak in public, but I can make a little chaos behind the scene.

Peeta and I adore the crazy scientist so I know he join me, even if he hates labs. And thinking of… I can see my husband making his way towards our corner. Smiling and chatting as he goes. The smoothness in which he moves through the crowd is amazing, the people part for him without thought.

Everyone that meets Peeta instantly loves him; he has a charisma that only beasted by Finnick. Luckily my anti-social skills have put a stop to any misuse of his natural skills and so I have speared my husband the political climate that constantly surrounds us. A fact that pleases me.

In a cream-white suit, pastel green shirt and dark green shoes he dominates the room, making the people in outrageous dresses inferior to his presence. True warmth fills my gaze. Our first years together had been hard and cold, but Peeta had slowly managed to heal me; in the process given me a wonderful life, filled with love and laughter.

Gale has not yet seen Peeta´s approach and continues the conversation.

"How long are you in town for anyways? Perhaps you want to join me for coffee tomorrow?" He looks hopeful, but the last thing I want is to spend more quality time with him. I give him an apologetic look and shrug my shoulders.

"Won´t have the time, the kids are home and I want to get back as soon as possible. But perhaps you can come home to us for dinner sometime." Knowing that Gale will never take the invitation. He has left district twelve behind him; the place hold too much pain and dark history for him. He only visits to see his family, luckily living as far away from me as possible.

"Yeah, perhaps someday if I'm close by." Gale says hesitantly, taking a step closer and invades my last bit of personal space. He leans in as if to say something more, but it's too late now. Peeta has arrived and easily slips an arm around my waist and gently pulls me into his arms. He is claiming me loud and clear. I decide to let him.

"Hello Gale, nice to see you again. I hope you are well? How is your girlfriend?" Peeta says with calm ease, smiling wide at him. I can feel how tense he is, he dislikes when Gale is to intimate, especially knowing how uncomfortable it makes me.

Gale takes a step back, anger entering his eyes and making becomes more formal. I hadn't realized how relaxed we had become with each other. Gale has a way of getting under my skin and which is dangerous for my safety. If he is relaxed I know it will be the matter of seconds before I follow. My body and mind still responding to him; even after all this time.

It takes Gale a few seconds before he collects himself and his smile reappears, which I use to take control over myself again. It's an effort for the both of us to get into characters again.

Soon I'm back portraying a cold aristocratic lady whilst Gale becomes more military centered. The image disgust me, memories of my sisters burning body re-appearing before me. I can almost smell the stench of burned flesh.

My body starts trembling and I have to take deep breaths to stop the rising panic. Peeta tips my chin up and gives me a soft but firm kiss. I calm instantly, cold anger filling my veins. He knows that I hate public affections, but I realize he has successfully distracted me from a flashback. I will give him an earful later for that stunt, but for now I'm only thankful.

Someone makes a fake cough, redirect our attention on Gale. He looks irritated, but I can't find it in me to care. Peeta and I may not be married for real, but our relationship is true. I refuse to apologize or look contrite for loving the man behind me.

"... I´m fine. Enjoying the party and the food." Gale says, getting the conversation started again, holding up his purple drink in a salute. "And as for... we broke up a while back, but I'm seeing a new girl that is lovely." Gale continues and takes a sipp.

I remain silent while Gale and Peeta starts a contest on who can keep up the smalltalk the longest. I soon get irritated, it's just polite bullshit and I much rather sneak out of here. I especially want it all to stop when Gale ask about my children. I always get a cold feeling when anyone inquires about them. Everything that concerns my treasures are off the table, not for the public knowledge and that is what Gale is in my eyes when it come to this. He has no reason to bring my babies into this façade.

"Yes. The kids are fine, they are little grumpy at the moment since they recently had the flu. But they getting better each day and running all over the place much to their mother's annoyance." Is Peeta's joyful reply. I complete the picture by rolling my eyes and huffing. At the same time I signal to Peeta to get us out of this by pinching his arm around my waist.

"Unfortunately we are heading out, I have grown tired of this party and want to get an early night. Hope you don't mind." He says to Gale, turning us towards the exit and is ready to walk towards it.

Unfortunately Gale doesn't want to let us go quite yet. He grabs my right hand in his and pulls gently.

"Why don't you head out alone? If you tired that is, Katniss can stay here with me and I can escort her home." He says with authority. I look towards Gale and force myself to squeeze his hand in a friendly gesture.

"Peeta is to kind Gale. He is not the tired one, I am. Truth is I only came along to make an appearance and appease the masses. I´m dead on my feet and all I want is to get some sleep."

I try to make myself look tired and worn down. Somehow I manage to convince Gale for he releases my hand and takes a couple of steps back. He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs his shoulders. He looks like a scolded pupil.

"I only want to spend time with you Katniss; you always too busy, not there or preoccupied. Why can't you stay? it's like I've lost you." Gale is pleading, but I feel nothing. I don't even grace him with a smile as I start walking towards the door; saying as I go that perhaps next time we can spend some alone time together, just him and me.

I can feel his eyes following me, but shake it off. I have had more than enough of him for the evening. Peeta wraps his arm around my shoulders and steers us through the crowd and manages to get us out of the ball-room without being stopped.

When we finally are outside the mansion and I breathe in the cold night air. I already feel better and freer. The stars are blinking down at me and I raise my face up towards them. I can feel Peeta's eyes on me and I smile.

"Close your eyes." I whisper. I don't have to open my eyes to know that he has done as I ask. We stand on the white marble-stairs and just enjoy the silent world for a few precious seconds whilst the stars shine down upon us.

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Chapter 2

Our car pulls up in front of us and the driver gets out, Peeta beats the driver to the car-door and holds it up for me and mock bows. It's a beautiful car; it's a crystal white scrib-car with blue colored leather-seats and cold metal panels. While I collect myself Peeta discreetly shoos the driver away with a hand wave.

"Your ride my Queen." He says teasingly. I give him a real laugh, the first this evening and feel myself relaxing. As I step into the car I lean over the door and give Peeta a kiss. His lips are warm and soft and they steal my breath away. I give him a warm look as I break the kiss.

"Thank you." I whisper softly before I disappear into the car and sit down on the sky-blue seats. Peeta soon follows me.

As the driver starts the engine I stop Peeta from giving him direction to the hotel. Our transport home awaiting us. Peeta wants to get home as fast as me, but I still want to see Beetee.

"Do you know the way to the Unity Science laboratory? We have a friend there that has invited us for a nightcap." The driver doesn't give a verbal answer, only nods and starts to drive down the lane. It takes me a couple of second before I realize that he is mute, a former Avox and I have stopped the making of Avoxes, but those with removed tongues still work as service-personal. Not much other choices for most of them. Two of them are close friends to us and are in fact home babysitting the brats.

"Who are we visiting?" Peeta inquires in a low voice, interrupting my thoughts.

"Beetee" I answer in a low voice." It seems he was prevented from attending the party tonight and I just wanted to say hi." Peeta only nods, he don't say anything more. I can see that he is eager to see Beetee again, but at the same time nervous. He hates labs even more than me; I hope he will get through this without getting flashback or nightmares from his time imprisoned by the former government.

I hate seeing him in pain.

We don't speak during the ride, instead sit close together with our hand claps with one and other, trying to just enjoy the others presence.

I hope we can get in; I have never been to this lab, but from what I have seen from the news its structure is similar to former training-facility of the 74th Hunger Games. The mere thought of us walking similar corridors make me edgy.

After a twenty minutes drive we're almost there. The building is even larger than I thought. Towering over the city it looks like a sharpened blade; the clear glass-panels glowing in the darkness, like a blade being forged in fire. It hides nothing to the naked eye; floor upon floor open for insight, all to give people a sense of openness I presume. How they get any research done I don't know, it can offer little privacy.

The car stops, Peeta tells the driver to stay put as we're not staying long. I get out of the car and look up. On one of this floor Beetee is hiding. I almost get a giddy feeling; from what Gale has told me Beetee is working with some fearsome firepower of a whole new caliber. Us coming knocking and snooping is going to make a few people nervous. I want to laugh, it's not often I and Peeta get to be a thorn in the side anymore.

Those facts also scares me, because I am still pondering why they would need new weaponry when there is peace. Is district thirteen not satisfied? Do they want to more? Or is it just Beetee doing what he does best; create and experiment. After all he can't shut down his brain, he has never been able to. That was why he became so mentally unstable after the war, his brain is constantly repeating the entire event and coming up with different scenarios.

Peeta and I don´t speak, he just takes my arm and together we walk towards the entré. I can see the desk-guard eyeing us carefully and speaking into an earpiece. He doesn't look happy to see us and he is becoming more and more nervous. I get a feeling that no one knows what to do with us. I smile wide as the glass-doors opens up for us.

It´s about five meters to the desk and Peeta makes us walk slowly. He wants to agitate the guard. When we finally reach the silver-colored desk we remain silent, waiting for the guard to speak. I can see sweat at the base of his hairline. The guard finally cracks after a minute.

"Good evening, what can I help you with." His voice is dark, but shaky. He is a young guard, probably only worked here for a couple of days and don't know what to do when two of the most famous war-heroes comes knocking.

I speak before Peeta; this guard poses no problem and will respond faster to my coldness then Peetas. He's a newbie and easily manipulated. We will have time before anyone can get confirmation to our presence. Forcing the guards to act independently, not their strong suite.

"We are here to see Beetee. Take us to him." I say detached, not dignifying him with a look.

"I.. well.. you se. I.. well.. can´t." The guard stutters. I roll my eyes and direct my most fearsome glare at the guard.

"Silence." I demand with a ice-cold voice. The guard almost jumps where he stands. "You will take us to Beetee, and you will do so without speaking or delaying." The guard just nods and with nervous gestures takes out a disk and starts walking down the long corridor that was to the left of the metal desk.

After several minutes of walking we are come before three elevators. The Guard nervously presses the button on the middle and waits. I huff impatiently and the guard pushes the button again. AS we step in we are met by black glass and a soft musical tone. I realize as the elevator starts moving that it's going down instead of up. They have a underground lab.

Leaving the elevator we move down a white corridor and countless black, red and green doors. They all have different numbers and codes. Reminding me of presidents Snow, the old rule and the once colorful capitol. It makes me long for my home. The two-story house painted soft-yellow, the inside decorated in blue-tinted wallpaper. A home made for safety and relaxation.

The guard brings me back from my musings when he stops. He glances over his left shoulder, still nervous. His willing us to change our minds. Peeta takes over as the disapproving authority and demands the guard to open. The guard sighs and lifts a red-balck disk, slipping it into the lock. After the door open we enter quickly before closing it in the guards face.

Once alone we take a look around. We find us standing in a industrial warehouse. The walls hidden behind rows of shelves, gadgets and trinkets. I can see how this would be a safe haven for someone like Beetee. Everything electronical or mechanical at close hand. Peeta take a couple of step in and we can hear his footsteps echoing of the walls. As we walk down the path I start to hear the sound of metal against metal. We cautiously move in that direction.

After passing a couple of racks,containing water-containing backpacks, we enter an open area. Finding Beetee sitting in his wheelchair before a table. Twinkering winkling with some sort of hand-device. He is covered in grease and oil. No one else is around. Peeta is the first one to speak, trying to get the man's attention. "Beetee?"

The genius doesn't answer, but that's hardly surprising. After several attempts I finally had enough and take a cup of cold coffee from the table and throw it at Beetee. His scream echoes in the space. He swirls around; troves off his head gear and glare at us. It takes a few seconds recognition springs to his face. I can't stop my laughter at his affronted glare, joined by Peeta

"Harh, harh. It is understandable that people of few brain cells would find such primitive action rewarding." Beetees snarks in a gruff voice,"I would be more welcoming if you would, in the future, sustain from such means of entertainment and rude gestures." He raises his eyebrows. Trying to wipe the coffee of with a rag.

"Hi Beetee. How are you?" Peeta asks.

"I´m well, my body is experiencing a stiffness but then I have been sitting here in about…" Beetee pushes around things on the table. He soon locates en old wristwatch and holds it up close to his face. As his habit he lifts his glasses since he is far sighted. "… Twelve hours; stands to reason that I missed the party?!"

"You did, but it was a boring one so it wasn't a loss." I say and take the clock from him. "… Except for Gale explaining about your new success. I got to say I´m a bit curious, what exactly do you want a time stopper for Beetee?" I ask with a hidden tone of disapproval in my voice, but Beetee notice it as always.

"Ah! that one. It´s merely a prototype which Mr. Hawthorne very well knows and shouldn't be speaking to you about." Beetee says half-irritated. I get the sudden urge to defend Gale, knowing how pride can get the better of you.

"Everyone wants' to show what they can do. I can remember a man's pride in creating the hovering crib; intent for his goddaughter." I say with a soft smile, willing Beetee to remember the event. It's name still makes me laugh; the bird-napper.

"Ah! So it is, well played my lady." A small smirk gracing Beetee's face before he gets serious again.

"I'll never be a lady." I respond in short tone. I would never use the definition _lady _to describe myself.

"I don't know Katniss, to me you look like a nobel." Peeta says and kisses me on the cheek. For a long time we joke, converse and enjoy eachothers company. Falling back in familiar comradeship. It's not until Beetee comments on the time that I remembered what I had asked before we got sidetracked.

"Gah! You almost got me, now spill Mister. What is it you've been working on!" I say snappishly and cross my arms and level a `mother` glare at Beetee.

I get a shrug and scuff in reply.

Before I can get him to talk we hear loud voices, it's coming from the entrance. It seems that the guards cavalry is here. Soon people start to emerge from the the different aisles, amongst the new arrivals is Gale and he doesn't look to happy.

When they finally see us they start to surround the work-table; Gale seemingly in command of the unit.

"KATNISS WHAT THE…" Gale bellows, his grey eyes burning into mine. I just shrug and give a wave.

"Oh! Gale hi, look I found Beetee. Isn't that wonderful!" I say in an acid-dripping voice and give him a smile full of teeth.

I can see Gale flinch, but he's not slowing down. He is aggressively moving towards us, clearly pissed off. He is red in the face and his suit looks crinkled. He must have rushed over here in quite the temper. I wonder who is going to take it out on; me or the boys?

"… Youre not allowed down here." Gale grits out through clenched teeth, coming to a stop before the table. "This is a closed of area, in a _secret _part of the building. Nobody is supposed to be down here except employees. So why my dear Katniss is it that I get a call _**that you are here**_?!" He finishes off in a shout. Taking an angry step towards us. Peeta steps in front of me, silently telling Gale to back off.

Gale ignores it and gets right up in Peetas face, challenging him. The two men's aggressive behavior and cold stares soon morphs into an outright fight; Peeta forgoing a diplomatic solution when Gale make to reach around him to grab my arm. He throws the first punch, sending Gale stumbling into the table.

This sets off a chain reaction. What happens next seems like an eternity, but are in truth only seconds. I don't even have time to register where the situation was going.

As Gale and Peeta struggle the content on the table starts falling off it: A bad thing if Beetee's panicked look is to be believed. He shouts out in terror when I'm showed backwards by the fight, hitting hit the table behind me hard. He screams and the men's fighting spooks the accompanied guards. They raise their weapons and point them at us.

Gale and Peeta are to focuses on each other to see what happening. Beetee is trying to save what he can; leaving me to realise the danger we are in. The guards are reacting like typical soldiers; shoot first react rational later; they will squeeze the trigger if the fight doesn't stop.

I throw myself to the side, trying to knock Gale and Peeta of balance, whilst pushing Beetee off his wheelchair. The fallout is the boys falling to the ground whilst I get pushed back by Peeta. Several guns goes off due to my actions, I can feel one hitting my leg. I'm falling backwards over the table, my left arm smashing into the device Beetee was working on.

The weight of my arm presses down on a blue button at the same time a bullet hits glowing orb to my right. I'm suddenly in the middle of two beams that shoots out of the devices. I only have time to think _*Oh shit*_ before all I know is a unimaginable pain. I can feel how the skin on my body melts away and my muscles burn up. I can't even draw a breath to scream, for I have fire inside my body and my brain is boiling.

All there is in my life is pain and nothing _but_ pain.

The last I see before my eyes are destroyed and I cease to exist is lightning of every color of the universe and more flashing around me and then darkness.

I am dead…


	3. Chapter 3 & 4

The original work belongs to Suzanne Collins and her publishers or any other co-owner. I'm merely borrowing her epic work to make my own spin; the idea of a time-travel simply refusing to leave me alone, so I had to write it.

_I'm making no profits from this and the story isn't that good, if you haven't read Collins magnificent work I suggest you do. My messy fanfic is but a gnat in her shadow. __If anyone is offended I'm very sorry._

Chapter 3

The first thing I'm aware of is that my entire body is aching; feeling heavy, foreign and to small. The second is that I'm laying on something hard and cold but yet soft, I try to open my eyes but it's too much of a bother.

I remain in the position I woke up in with my eyes closed and just try to breathe. Not understanding what is going on; the last I remember is excruciating pain and then… death; am I dead? Is this the afterlife? Is Prim here? Or am I alive? I have a hard time believing that dead people should feel any pain. Also; why would I, as a dead person, even have a thought or conscience.

It's slow in coming but after a while I start to become aware of my surrounding. I can hear a goat walking around and bleat on the other side of a wall, tied down to something since it is not moving away. I can feel that I am undressed for the cold air is settling like a blanket over my bare arms and legs.

A cat is meowing and moving about in the space I am in. Not in distress but more to annoy the souls nearby, almost like Buttercup used to do when he knew I was tired; I still hate that cat. I can smell coal in the air that is distinct for district twelve, so wherever I am it is close to home. Next I believe myself to smell my mom's herbs and soap as well as Prim´s; the mere smell of my sister brings tears to my eyes. I almost start hyperventilating.

To this day I still can't stand any memories of my beloved sister, the sister I failed and led to death. My guilt is too great and my loss even greater for forgiveness to be allowed. Prim was more than a sister, she was a compass… a daughter. I let the world take her away and for that there is no repentance.

Her smell take over my senses, I can almost imagine that she is here, near me; Safe and sound. I try to ignore it and instead turn my focus inwards, something big happened before everything was colored in pain. That much I can remember; something vital occurred and for the life of me I can't remember what.

Not until a soft winds blows into the room and takes with it smell of the morning dew, wet coal and the smell of Primroses. The smell of the flowers is like a kick start of an engine. A wave of memories and information returns; how I and Peeta went to the party, my thoughts about my home and family and then the meeting with Beetee. The explosion and how the event leading to it is the cause of my current pain. Something went horribly wrong in that room, something that caused me such pain that I now can only remember a small part of it.

I shiver at the thought, and I feel how the pain intensifies for a seconds as the shiver travels through my body. I realize that it is phantom pain I have and not a real one. I'm not really injured I just believe that I am; which means I can move my body; I just have to convince my head that the pain is false.

The thought of how my body can have lived through such pain and torture without any real damage don't stand thinking about, the imagine one is excruciating as it is. I have lived through a lot though and I can make myself bare this. I want to get out of here, I can still sense Prim in the air and need to get away; no pain will stop me.

I force my eyes open and the first thing I see is a grey wall. The next is the ugliest yellow cat ever born sitting on the floor staring at me. My entire world narrows down to that cat, amplification by his mere existence. A clump forms in my stomach and I feel acid building up in the back of my throat. I can feel panic growing inside me. But I bit it back and narrow my eyes, disbelief being my weapon, and start to scrutinize the cat more closely. It must be another cat then the one I first believe it to be.

The more I look the more I notice the similarity; the cat is missing half an ear, he has a pushed in pug-nose, two ugly green eyes and puke-yellow fur. I refuse to admit it but the cat before me can be no other than Buttercup. He has been dead for over ten years. He had died an old cat doing what he loves the most, shredding all my dresses in my closet and chewing on my hunting boots. All the same he is sitting before me, staring at me with hate in his eyes; a hate so normal for us that I feel myself responding with equal hate out of habit.

Suddenly I hear movement above my head, my head snaps in that direction and the most painful and jet wonderful image fills my sight. Though a small door just a few feet away from me I can see a child's face, framed by soft baby-blonde hair. The child is curled into a ball and spooning with a woman in her late thirties in a dirty bed, underneath a thin blue-colored blanket.

My heart stops and I can't breathe, tears burning my eyes. Everything is spinning and I desperately want the world to stop. This can't be happening, this is not real. My heart is cramping and my breaths are coming in short gasps. I forget about my earlier pain as my entire world narrows down to the girl's´ face.

I count every breath she takes; I see every movement behind her closed eyes; I drink in every freckle that litters her face. For the longest time my world is just her face and nothing else. I soon need to get closer, I'm like a junkie that needs a fix and all I suddenly can think of is: hug her, shake her, make sure that she is there, that she is **alive**.

I force myself up on unsteady legs that feels stiff and cramped and also shorter than they should, but I don't care.

I take a clumsy step towards the child and stumble. I almost fall. The contact brakes and the spell is broken. The only thing I see now is a dirty brown floor. I can't bring myself to raise my gaze again; to confirm my earlier sight and allow hope to grow, or worse for hope to be destroyed. I turn slowly, my back to the angelic face; to that beautiful but so very painful vision.

I instead focus my stare on the room I'm standing in. I'm screaming inside, but not a sound leaves my lips. I'm not certain if I'm crying or not. It's my room, in my old home; it´s all too much, too much. It can't be real, it must be a trick, a torture device, _a hell_.

Surrounding me is the smallest room in existence, a metal-plate-room that is rectangular and at most two meter wide and three meter long. little space to move in, but that was normal in the old Seam.

The only thing in the room is two small shelves, a couple of hooks and a thin bed; school-books litter the shelves and clothes hang on the hooks. Prim never had a bed of her own; she always slipped into mine or mom's, so there is only one bed, with one blanket. I can feel a whine breaking out of my throat; so many memories exist in this room.

I need to get out, to get away. The room is too small, I can´t breathe in here. I need space to think. I feel so weak, scared and helpless; nothing about this is right. It's a nightmare… A horrible and dreadful nightmare. I turn and sit down on the bed, desperately looking for a pair of shoes. I find them where they always were; at the head of the bed. The same with my pants and sweater; hidden underneath the thin pillow at the head of the bed; to keep them warm and away from the rodents.

I refuse to raise my face as I get dressed, to afraid of what's to see. I´m working on auto-pilot and my hands are shaking. Making me struggle with the white-grey sweater for a minute, but I finally get it on. The green pants unfold easier, but I hesitate in trying them on, they look to small. It is then I take a look at myself. It takes a few seconds before I realize what I see and I almost scream in despair.

I close my eyes hard and start to force air through my nose. I will not think… not until I have gotten out of here. When I am out and away then I can break down, but not now and not here.

I get dressed in silence, trying not to wake the occupants in the other room. When I have the last boot on I try to get up again. I´m feeling dizzy, disoriented and have a massive headache. Otherwise I'm a bit better physically than when I woke, the imagined pain my body was in is almost gone. I take a couple of stumbling steps towards the door and manage to get out to the small corridor without fainting and enter the kitchen.

Not once do I look up, I just follow the floor below me and tries to get to the door as fast as I can manage without falling apart. But as I open the door I can hear a female voice coming from behind me.

"Katniss?" It's her; she has woken up and as always she is looking for me. I can hear here start moving around, clearly beginning her morning rituals when she discovered the bed empty. I can't face her, not know, not EVER. I forget to move careful; instead I slam the door open and start running as fast as I can make myself.

"Katniss, was that you?" is the last thing I hear before I manage to round a house corner and loose myself in the labyrinth that is the Seam. I'm not stopping, desperately looking for a safe place to break down; to get somewhere calm where I can think.

…

Wherever I turn everything is as it used to be. No burned buildings in the down area. There are the old houses I used to play between when my father lived and hide behind when peacekeeper came to the Seam. The coalminers dirty shacks and worn down houses pushed together, hardly leaving any free space for walking. Not looking where I'm going I move down the mace of buildings. But I soon come to a dead stop.

In front of me a mass of dark figures are moving slowly between the houses. It's the coal miners, coming back from their night-shift. I stare at them, at the man and women with dirty faces and dead eyes moving in a slow pace down the paths open for them. Some disappears into houses, others into dark alleyways and out of sight. They are close and I can feel the stench of their sweat mix in with coal. It nauseates me. After the war the miners had demanded better living arrangements, work hours, tools and cleaning supplies. Even though the smell of coal could never be diminished the miners could go home cleaner and safe.

The sight before me is a horrifying one; it´s like all the joy and hope has died for this people. Not one of the faces moving towards me has a spark of hope or a fire in them. They are more or less dead and world very. Like mom used to be, like Gale´s parents used to be. I realize as the first men move past me that I am standing at the end of the Seam, close to the middle class district, far away from a safe place to think. I have missed the coalmine district, the hob as well as the meadow.

If I had kept on running I would have entered peacekeeper-territory and the square. Whether or not this is real I am back in the old district twelve as it were before the bombing and fire. Peacekeepers are not my friends and gaining their attention has never been good for anyone.

I turn slowly, glade for the adrenalin and ace in my body. The run has managed to distract me and I want to keep myself distracted until I get away. The only place I can think of that could give me sanctuary is the forest. It´s a long way there, but at least I know nobody will be around.

A sudden strong wind hits my back and my loose hair whips around my face. The smell of fresh baked bread comes with it. I freeze. My eyes are wide open, so open that I can feel the tearing up from being subjected to the air. "Peeta." I whisper and as another strong wind hits me breathe in deep.

I can't stop what happens next. My entire body convulses and I have to throw myself toward the nearest wall to maintain standing. I'm puking and sweating and I realize that I'm having a panic attack. Nobody around me cares; they have seen it all before and keep on walking.

I can't stop myself from heaving, not even when there´s nothing left to throw up. I feel dead on my feet and want it all to stop. My mouth is dry and taste of death. My body is weak and shaking. I have no clue what's going on and that scares me the most.

Long after the streets are empty again I finally have enough strength to move. On shaky legs I start to orient my way amongst the dark houses toward the meadow; trying to ignore my weakened state. I pass the cluster of houses, then the hob and then the mining factory. All without running into any more people; which I am grateful for. It takes a long time since I need a short rest every few meters, the stress taking it's toll on me.

When for the start of the meadow begins emerging I have to get down on all four and crawl the last hundred or so feet up the hill to get to the fence. It´s not my usual place, so it takes me a while to find an opening big enough to get through. It feels foreign to have a fence surrounding twelve again, for many had wanted the fence gone after the war. Their fear of the wilderness aside.

As soon as I'm through I lay flat on my back, not caring for the bugs or the dirt that's underneath me, and stare at the sky. When I gained conscious this morning the clock must have been around four or five, now it was late morning. I estimate it to at least being seven or eight o'clock. As I lay there in the grass with the sun shining down I'm lulled to an exhausted sleep.

…

When I wake it's the sun is high in the sky and my body feels better than before. I slowly move my joints and test my strength. The panic-attack has run its course and even though I feel exhausted I am confident that I can walk. It is unsafe to linger long this open; I need a place to think.

As I get my bearings I feel grateful that the meadow is such an open and flat area. I can easily spot familiar three lines and landmarks. Knowing instantly where my bow and arrow are likely to be. I soon find them inside a hollow log, swept in piece of fabric. I strap them to my back, feeling more secure and confident with their weight on me.

As soon as I'm swallowed by the trees I start to feel more at ease. My body is a bit dehydrated and hungry, but I ignore it. Water isn't far off and it seems to be late summer, there must be some berries and mushrooms nearby. Thanks to my father I know where the best places for both kinds are. I'm not in a risk of being spotted by a hover-craft or a cam-halo since I'm not far enough out of the district.

After the war many of secrets about the capitols spy-network was answered. Their ability to come from a highly intelligent computer; it had the ability to register certain words, phrases and actions. It could also use any speaker, screen or halo-cam to spy. As long as you avoided certain keywords or went too far out it really hadn't paid any attention to you at all. The exception being the yearly reaping; scrutiny of the various districts always becoming more severe to prevent an uprising.

The fresh air of the forest fills my lungs, calming me. The peaceful life of the forest feeling like home. Birds singing in the trees, squirrels scavenging for food. A snake is sunbathing on a rock and two deer's are calmly roaming amongst the trees. I'm thankful for the wilderness, knowing that no other is in this forest empowers me.

Soon I come to a water stream and after drinking some cold water and washing my face I almost feel human again. Some blueberries are growing on a hill close by and I feast on the delicacies, my stomach growling in hunger. I'm woken from my serenity when a branch snap in the forest. At first I think it's a animal, but then I hear a person swearing. I pale, my heart start beating fast and I start sweating again.

There someone in here with me, but who? I quickly look for a place to hide, but nothing looks safe. Then I see a small hole two between boulders a few meter to my right, next to the water draft. It will be a close fit. I need to lose the bow and arrows. I quickly dig into the soft ground underneath me, lifting the moss and plants and hide my treasures. It looks weird but it might work.

The person getting closer, the steps seeming moving in my direction. Was I seen? I ran the last few steps to the boulders and force my body in between the gap. I soon find myself in an awkward position, my arms and legs pressed tightly to my body, but I'm hidden from sight. My legs are soon cramping, my back aching and I can feel the rough edges of the rocks biting into my skin. I can hardly breathe I´m so curled up, but the footsteps gets closer and I don't have time to get comfortable.

"Katniss." A gentle voice says in a loud whisper. I recognize it and almost swear out loud. Of course it is him. First Prim, then the miners and Peeta. Why not him, for who cares that a lady might need a breather. Oh no, let's throw in Gale to the mix. I can feel panic as well as a deep hot anger growing inside me. I almost reveal myself just so that I can vent my anger on him. I don´t.

A shadow moves over the hole and I gleam the person standing a few feet away from me.I have to stifle a gasp. It's not a man I see, but a boy; a teenage boy, not older than fifteen, that's half-starved and nervously looking for his friend. Gale young appearance makes everything finally hit home and tears starts falling down my cheeks. I had almost convinced myself to this being a simulation or a torture session, but there is no way that a young Gale would be used in either cases.

In a simulation I would never have thought of him this way. Not in a million years, not since the bombs killed Prim. This forest is my sanctuary, Gale no longer has a place in it. Not even a young and innocent Gale. Besides, everyone else sees Gale as a strong soldier and hero, they wouldn't think of portraying him as he once was. Especially if they wanted me to seek comfort in him. But if it's all real then of course Gale would be here, the forest was as much his hiding place as mine back then... here.. now?! And of course he would follow me and look for me in the forest, we almost always hunted together.

I can remember our days before my reaping, how I thought him grown and big, almost like an adult. he has always been tall and for the kids in district twelve he was amongst the strongest and healthiest of the boys, even though his family was as poor as mine. Mom used to say that he had sucked all of the health out of his mother since his younger sibling was all shorter and sick looking. But now I have to disagree, the boy in front of me is not the boy I remember. He looks so thin and weak.

His dark hair is so lifeless; his skin pale beneath the filth and his face is so hollowed out because of prolonged starvation and food shortage. I know that if I had a mirror I would look the same; thin, pale and sickly. I am thankful for the fact there was no mirror in the room this morning. Seeing myself as I where all those years before would have driven me over the edge.

I hardly notices when Gale walks away, softly calling for me. I don´t notice that I am alone for the longest time, not until I have lost a feeling in my body and my tears run out. Then first I began to move, to try getting out of the hole I´m in.

When I'm finally out I collect my bow and arrows and move deeper into the forest. The day is soon over, long shadows starts to swallow up the forest floor. I don't care, I let my feet take me where they want to go. Everything that´s happened today being too much to process. After walking for a while I find myself on a hidden path which I realize will lead me to the lake cabin my father had showed me all those years ago, when he wanted to teach me how to swim.

I quicken my steps, knowing that at last I'll have a refuge. After a while I finally see the shadow of the house and I start to jog, then run. I don´t stop until my left hand touches the wall of the small abandoned cabin. The minute I enter the rundown building I start screaming and I don´t stop. I scream, rage, hit at and throw everything in sight. I keep doing this until my knuckles are bleeding, my voice is hoarse and my anger has run its course. It's like a storm breaking out of containment. It's not long before I have nothing left to give. I can't even bring up the energy to cry.

The only thing left is to think, analyze and coop. The first thing I have to deal with is the fact that I seem to have wakened up in the past. That itself should be an impossibility; it goes against the very law of nature, space and time. Then again this is Beetee's doing and the genius can do anything with enough time, mix that together with a power-hungry district thirteen and you get this I suppose.

I´m in the past, with everyone I love deaged and alive, but again oppressed by the capitol. All those lives and sacrifices for naught, misery and death a way of life. For what life is there to have when your every waking moment is focused on surviving and not dying.

I'm not especially intelligent and after many crazy ideas the only logical scenario I can think of is one. That the clash of beams between his machine and the other device somehow had defied reality and forced me into the past. But why weren't I older? I am after all twentysix years old, I have no place in a child's body, even if it is mine.

Could it be that the pain I remember experiencing really happened? That whilst I woke up after thinking that I had died my body was still destroyed? I can remember feeling my skin melt and my body burning, maybe that really happened. But then why AM I HERE? Shouldn't I be dead in the future, where Beetee, Gale and Peeta were?

Gah! It's all so confusing and daunting. Why me of all people, I can't deal with this type of shit. I'm a hunter and not a scientist; there had been over fifteen people in that room, why the hell was I the one waking up here. I'm not suppose to be here. I´m supposed to be home with my family, tending to my garden and hunting in the forest.

Oh no! my kids… no, no, no, NO. If.. if I´m here and this really is happening then that means my kids hasn't been born yet. My heart feels like it's breaking and I give out an animalistic shout. They took away my babies. If I ever see Beetee and Gale again I will _kill _them. It's the last thought I have before my brain shuts down. My mental stability shut to hell and the young body I´m now in unable to handle the strain.

Chapter 4

I wake up by a bird picking on my fingers. I let it, not really caring about something so trivial. I am laying on the floor in the run-down cabin and just allow the air around me calm me as I think. The trashed cabin, with its broken window, small pantry and bare floors is alight in the early morning light. There is hardly anything in here except for me and the bird. An old abandoned cabin that has decayed under the weight of time and nature.

This house is not so unlike me. It is stuck in a time where it seen much of everything and knows what's coming. It's almost poetic in a way; that the house, just as empty as me, is still standing and fighting. Fighting to live and to once again find a place in the world.

Yesterday I panicked and allowed the situation to get the better of me. The first thing you learn in the Hunger Games is that if you give in to stress, fear and despair you will crumble and die.I will not crumble and I will not die. I have lived through too much and sacrificed so many to earn myself a life; I will not let this be the thing that breaks me.

I snap my fingers in the bird's face and it flies away in fright. I get up and brush dust and dirt from my cloths, taking stock that both my pants and sweater has several scrape-holes and grass-spots. I need to look over any injuries I might have gain in my mad dash around the forest.

Yesterday I lost myself in all the panic. I allowed the situation to get to me and ran around like a crazed dog. It's no wonder that I feel so exhausted and thirsty, my entire body feels like a log and cracks as I stretch it. I make my way down to the lake and wade into the water without caring for my clothes and boots. The water is ice-cold and I have to bite my tongue to prevent a scream from breaking out.

After drinking greedily from the water and washing my face I look around. There is nothing here except for me and the forest. I can see some birds amongst the three-crowns, but the majority seems to still be sleeping for hardly any birdsong is heard.

I can feel the cold water seeping into my clothes and caress my skin. I get goosebumps from it and I laugh at the silliness. I can't help the half-hysteric laughter that breaks out and disrupts the calm over the lake. My life as I know it is over and here I am in my own familiar forest getting shills.

I feel so lost right now but the only thing that I can do is deal and move on. If there was something that I got from yesterday's madness is that allowing shock and panic to get the overhand will lead to nothing. I have lived through horrible situations where everything and everyone around me wanted to destroy me. Getting stuck in the past, while horrible, is not the worst thing that could happen to a person. Or so I try convince myself.

During my exhausted sleep I had a lot of old nightmares; dreams that reminded me of how much I can take; how strong I can be when the odds are against me. So that is what I'm going to do, deal and survive for I am not that kind of person that just gives up.I am Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire and the symbol of deliberation and survival.

I don´t break that easily.

…

After making up a small fire inside the cabin I take of my cloths and hand them on the rotting door to dry.

Before getting out of the lake I hadn´t been able to resist diving into the cold water, knowing that the coldness would shock my sense awake, thus leaving me dripping wet. The only thing still dry is my weapons which I had thrown into a corner in my anger yesterday. Thankfully there was no damage done to them and I could shoot a passing bird for breakfast. It won´t give much food but it will sustain me until I can think out a plan of action.

Naked and cold I settle in front of the fire and start plucking the dead crow. I soon have it skewed on a pike and roasting.

My first plan of action is to calmly decide how I want to proceed; should I go about my day as naturally as possible, just be a kid from twelve that´s trying to survive and are afraid of the capitals shadow. Or should I try to manipulate thing and make a voice for myself: that would be tempting but would probably lead to a quick death.

Even when the survivors in my district hide themselves in district thirteen it seemed like president Snow could reach them. Many during that time were too scared of the outcome of the war that they attacked anyone that dared speak their mind too much. People like me and Gale was seen as heroes but also as rebels, instigators and causers; we were admired but also pushed out of the community.

So while the first will be an easier route to take, for it´s not a very proactive one, the only thing it would give me is room to have a pity-party and feel sorry for myself. But going by the other option would mean that worse thing could happen and that I have absolutely no control of my environment. The first option whilst the coward one, will improve my survival chances in the long run.

As I contemplate which one I rather prefer I turn the crow to prevent it from burning. In the process getting a look at my hand and it hits me how young it is. I was too busy yesterday with everything else that I didn't get a good look at myself. As I do so know I want to cry again. Instead of a mature woman I'm a sickly child of twelve again. Short for my age with two skinny legs, pale arms and a touch-starved body. Most of the kids in the Seam will always have a look of starvation do to our inability to build proper muscle structure, so I can't be certain of my age, but I think I'm about thirteen or fifteen years old. That would mean it's either my reaping year or it might be two whole years to go.

I am too young and too weak to inspire an uprising. I´m also not a symbol at this time. I have no power that I can use. Any action I take will most likely get me killed, either by the peacekeepers or my own people. However my child-status gives me a possibility to move freely in my environment. A fact which I really like for it gives me control. I have always craved control, it's the only thing there is a shortage of in this world while pain and madness exist in abundance.

I have finished the crow and am now just sitting in front of the fire, absorbing the projected heat. I'm slowly realising that my best option is to be a coward, to move in the shadows. That will increase my chances of surviving longer, I can always change my mind later. For unlike before I had more weapon in my arsenal. The capitol had withheld information about the different districts _from _the districts. It wasn't until after the war that we started interacting more; giving each other new knowledge about food, shelter and life.

I fondly think of my many visits to the districts, the people I meet and places I've seen. Rue's mother being one of my best, she had demanded that I came and spend time with the family. Rues siblings was so alike her that it had been excruciating painful to be around them in the beginning, but like Rue they got under my skin. They showed me district eleven and introduced me to their local food and customs. The kindness I experienced in eleven is singular to them; everyone shares what they have and looks out for each other. In twelve that's a rarity, here you priority your own life above others. That or you starve.

After eleven Annie had hunted me down, wanting me to get to know Finnick's son, refusal was impossible. The water district had been beautiful and cirque, showing me were Finnick's' personality came from. Annie had been my guide as I got to know the local traditions and cuisines.

I can't help to cry softly at the memories for it had been the start in cementing my love for Peeta. He had seen the healing effect the visits had on me and so traveled with me from district to district. Showing me Panem; the uniqueness of every districts and its people. It had wanted me to change my home, make twelve better than it had been. Making it ours.

HOME…. Prim…

Prim is alive…

Suddenly I realize exactly what's been given; I could kiss Gale and Beetee. My sister is ALIVE. I´m suddenly full of activity, rushing around, getting dressed and stamp out the fire. I don't care that I'm wet, I need to get home; I need to get to my sister.

Prim…

I´m so fast out the door that I almost forget the bow, forcing me to turn around. The moment I'm certain i got everything I'm running. I don´t stop, I ignore everything around me; the morning sun, the dew and the animals. I ran along the hidden path, by the water stream and to the meadow. When I reach the edge of the meadow I stop. looking for peacekeepers. I rest my hands on my knees and try to catch my breath as I scout the area. everything is calm and I start forward, ready to go home to Prim. i'm stopped when i realise that i still have the bow and curse. If someone saw me with them I would be arrested for instigation.

moving back into the forest and letting the trees hide me again I find the log and remove the hunting-bow and the arrows, ready to sweep them in the fabric once again. But as I put the fabric around the bow I stop and start swearing, I've been gone for an entire day and the peacekeeper must have noticed my absence, going home without a good excuse would mean death.

I realise that I need to hunt down a rarity to bribe the peacekeepers with. Swearing I turn around and stump back into the forest. Mad at myself for my carelessness, it's keeping me from Prim and almost endangering her. I only been back one day.

_*Good work Katniss.*_


	4. Chapter 5, 6 & 7

The original work belongs to Suzanne Collins and her publishers or any other co-owner. I'm merely borrowing her epic work to make my own spin; the idea of a time-travel simply refusing to leave me alone, so I had to write it.

_I'm making no profits from this and the story isn't that good, if you haven't read Collins magnificent work I suggest you do. My messy fanfic is but a gnat in her shadow. __If anyone is offended I'm very sorry._

Chapter 5

It has been two hours and still no prey good enough; I have a couple of small birds and a squirrel, but I need something else; a rabbit would be good. I'm starting to get frustrated and carless. To find better pray I have climb up an oak tree overlooking another stream, this one bigger than the last. I try to just breathe in the morning and calm my senses.

For one hour I make no sounds and finally I´m awarded for my patience. A deer and her colt have come to the water to drink, both looking healthy and fat. The colt sin running around and exploring as the mother keeps an eye out for trouble. I hate the fact that I'm going to kill one of them, but the opportunity is to good. I draw my bow and load up an arrow and aim, I make certain that I will hit the colts heart in my first shot. As the mother bows her head to take a drink I close my eyes and let the arrow fly.

Seconds later the colt falls together, dead in an instant. The mother rears up and lets out a shout of fear. She bolts towards her child, but she seems to realize that it's dead. She only pauses for a few seconds before she abandons the body and runs into the forest. I mourn the loss of a life, but as a hunter and I will not feel guilty for getting food. I climb down the tree and move towards the colt, kneeling before it. I gently caress the neck, its skin still warm, before pulling out the arrow.

The shot was clean for there is hardly any blood. I allow myself to feel satisfied for the good kill. I get up and starts to look for three thick branches and soft bark. It will help me tie together a sling to which I will secure the body.

By an old maple tree I find the branches I´m searching for. They have recently fallen to the ground and are yet strong enough to carry the colt's weight. It takes me a bit longer to find bark soft enough to twain together the branches, I could have used grass but that won't last long.

When I have built my sling I strap it to my body similar to a backpack and drag it over to the colt to get a feel of its weight and structure. When I am confident that it will hold I start to load the colt onto it. The colt must weigh about thirty kilos, forcing me to go slowly to preserve my energy. When I am confident that everything is secured I start the journey home again, keeping myself focused by thinking of Prim's face and smile.

…

On my way home I spot a cluster of thick brushes, they are overflowing with ripe raspberries. I should walk past them, but I can't resist them. I'm forced to use the cloth for the bow as a bag since I have nothing else. It will work here and should hold about one liter of berries. I try to pick the berries as fast as I can, ignoring the bugs and leaves that's in my way. As soon as I´m done I adjust my bow and arrow before continuing the journey.

When I'm at the log, just before the meadow, I quickly stuff the bow and arrows in the hollowed log and scan the area, the meadow is empty and alight with sunlight. The day proving to be a sunny one. The fence is on the end of the meadow, big and intimidating. I hesitate to take the final step out into the open. The thought of Prim though strengthens my resolve and I take a determined step out into the tall soft-green grass. The deer dragging tracks into the dirt behind me. I move to my usual opening in the fence, the hole that is disguised by a thick bush. I have to work hard to get the small deer through the gap but after some time I manage.

Now the real problem began, I could just walk right home but since I have caught such a big loot I'm in danger of being attacked. Meat is a rarity for twelve and deer meat even more so. How to get it home without having anyone noticing it? My answer is Johanna, who once told me that seven used sledges to carry home rise and bark for fires.

I run back to the tree line and rips apart branches covered in leaves and use it to disguise the colt. I am sweating heavily by now and feel my thirst grooving by the second. My muscle starting to cramp and my legs feel like logs. I have overworked myself but I refuse to quit now. With determination I steel myself and ignore my bodies exhausted state.

I am soon done and take a step back. I am still mostly counseled by the big bush, but I know that my time is running out. I need to get home now. I place the birds and squirrels atop of the woodpile together with the berries. They will serve as bait so no one looks closer at my loot.

Before moving down the hill into mine-factory-area I take another look around. For those who knows' what to look for would immediately discover my tracks, I have been sloppy and stressed. Hopefully I will have the chance to correct it tomorrow or get some rain that will wipe out the tracks.

Bellow me district twelve lays still and lifeless, the sun reflecting in the metal houses and dirty windows. It looks like a place where people go to die, not to live. It's dark, dirty and depressing. But amongst this houses two dandelions exist that's the light of my world. One I hope to avoid for the pain of my lost past and the other I can't wait to see for she can be my future.

When I am certain that nobody's near I drag the sling out from the bush and strap it on once again. My steps are slow but I am filled with an elation and energy unknown to me before. Hoping that the peacekeepers can be bribed or has not yet learned of my disappearance. I snort at that thought; I am worried about peacekeepers, a being I haven't feared in years. The situation is ridiculous and I'm astonished at how fast I´m accepting it. I should be running around the forest and be screaming my head off (still).

Instead I'm on my way home to my suddenly alive sister with bribes to oppressors I though defeated. It is ridiculous but it is still real and it's happening. And strange enough all I want to do is smile.

_Prim._

…

I have finally reached my block and just a couple of more turns and I should be home. I'm sweating heavily and my entire body is trembling, but I push on. Bypassers is giving me strange looks but leave me be, they have their own problems and can't be bothered. A fact I have been counting on. The colt is still hidden and I am confident that I will make it the last few meters home before my body gives in.

A shadow falls over me and I still. I am terrified that it will be a peacekeeper and that my days are numbered. Instead it's worse: it is Gale's mum; Mrs. Hawthorne. She looks older then my mom, her hair graying at the roots and her face look tired and worn. I have forgotten how thin she was before the war, she had gotten fatter after. Seeing her so weak and starved-like is daunting. Her presence is like a knife; she and her family have always treated my like one of theirs and right now she looks scared and disappointed.

"You have visitors, the troubled kind." She tells me in whispers, dark-grey eyes burning into mine; she wants to know what I have been doing that could possibly have put my family in danger. "Your mother and sister has covered for you, but the visitors is getting angry and hostile."

I nod but don't speak. She moves past me, going home to her little ones and leaving me to deal with the mess I created. Before she disappears behind a corner she turns around. "Your sister told them that you were sick, a fact that is supported by miners seeing you vomiting yesterday morning." After those words she is gone, but it is enough. I know what I have to say now and I hope it works.

I continue on without any more interruption and within minutes I am at the corner before my home. I am terrified, if the colt won't do they will kill my whole family. An angry peacekeeper is a deadly one.

Before I walk into sight I take the birds, squirrel and the berries. Hiding them underneath the nearest house. Thankful most houses, whilst being constructed from metal-plains and bricks, rest their foundation on rocks; thus leaving gaping holes everywhere you look. I know they will be safe, no one is stupid enough to stick their head out when there are peacekeepers in the Seam.

When their hidden I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what's to come. I dry my sweaty hands on my pants and start walking forward on shaky legs. The peacekeepers surrounding my house notice me at once. One of them knocks on my house door and speaks to the person or persons inside.

I hope that Prim is not in there. The colt feel heavy on my back and my breath is short. I am nervous and I want to run away, but it´s too late as one of the peacekeepers take a step towards me, a cold look in his eyes, just daring me to run. I don't.

Out of my house the biggest peacekeeper I have ever seen emerges. His uniform is so shiny and spotless. The whiteness of it could blind a person. He's in his mid thirties and has a fine red colored beard that's clashes with the uniform.

"Ah, Miss Everdeen I am peacekeeper Darque" he says as I come close enough. I study him a few seconds and to my horror I realize that he is one of those people that take great pride in his manners and profession, to bribe him will be impossible. He has the cold gleam in his eyes that the cruelest and coldest peacekeepers has, everyone in district twelve knows to avoid them like the plague. They will judge before a crime has been committed.

"You finally grace us with your present. My I ask where you have hidden yourself; we have been looking for you since early morning, you have missed two days worth of class." The peacekeeper says with frustration and irritation dripping from his voice. He is looking for an excuse to arrest me; he clearly hates being here and me for forcing him. Most peacekeepers hate visits to the Seam. They always leave covered in soot and stinking of unclean humans.

I need him to focus on something else, if he sees the colt he will kill me on the spot.

"I am sorry peacekeeper Darque, I was sick and fainted." As I say in a meek voice. He and the other two peacekeepers take step back. Diseases in the Seam are mostly of the deadly kind and no one wants to risk being infected.

"I only meant to get healing bark, thinking I had a cold, but as I neared the fence where the bushes grow I started to feel even worse. As I was breaking down the branches I started puking." I try to bring fort sick emotions hoping to convince them. Thankfully I am sweating and shaking a lot and probably looking extremely pale.

"I turned around and started home again but then everything went black. I've just woken." I continue, hoping that the state of my body plays in my favor.

"Ah! And the fact that it's been over a day and it's almost noon is something you want us to let slide Ms Everdeen; in addition your carrying illegal firewood on your back, which is normal I suppose for a sick person?" Peacekeeper Darque ask with a sneer and a heavy dose of sarcasm. He then takes out a white handcarief and cover his lower face with it.

I have a hard time not sneering back, I hate people that lords their power over others and it brings home how powerless I am now. I swallow my natural answer and try to look meek and compliant.

"I didn't realize that an entire day had passed, I thought I just lost a few hours … and since I already had the branches I didn't think of leaving them. I am truly sorry." I say in a tired and scared voice.

The peacekeepers companions looks bored and willing to go along with it, but Darque clearly want to take this farther. Before he gets the opportunity to speak again mother suddenly stands in the doorway. She looks worried and tired.

"You're back." Her voice is so small and empty, like she's dead on her feet.

"Yeah, I didn't know that I was gone so long. Where you and Prim very worried?" I ask back, taking a couple of steps passed peacekeeper Darque and towards her. I take of the sling straps and pull it up to lean against the wall next to the doorpost. I then hug mom and breathe in her sent.

Mom smells of coal and flowers, she always were so picky about her sent; always trying her best to keep herself clean. I never told her that the combined smell of the two was horrible. I still won't say anything even as the smell makes me gag, I'm too happy to see her.

Mom is a bit stiff but she doesn't resist the hug, she actually leans into it and hugs me back almost desperately. I know that our relationship at this time is strained and a bit hostile. But even though I never really reconciled properly with her I am happy to see her now. I do after all love her. Mom´s suddenly pushing me away and brings her hand up to my forehead. She then exclaims and pulls me inside, completely forgetting about the peacekeepers.

"Mom! What…" I shout, stunned by her actions.

"Not a word child, you are sweating and have a fever. You are going straight to bed, I have to examine you." Moms tell me in no uncertain words, I know better than to argue. Unfortunately peacekeeper Darque doesn't and he is angry at my mother's actions.

"Mrs. Everdeen what do you think you are doing?! She has not yet explained herself to my satisfaction. I demand further answers now." Mom ignores him, dragging me into my small room and pushes me down on the bed. As soon as I'm down she pulls of my boots and forces me to take of my wet clothes in front of the peacekeepers. I am soon laying underneath the thin blanket and feeling mortified.

"You can continue asking her as soon as I have gotten her settled, I know you have a job to do, but she is my child. I only want to make sure that she is fine." Moms says and looks with kind eyes at Darque, she doesn't give the poor man a chance. That look can break any man's resolve.

"I..well..I suppose…hmm, hmm." Darque looks ridiculous when fluster and stuck in a room ten sizes too small for him. I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing.

"So she is sick?" Everyone knows that my mom has some knowledge of medicine since she is the daughter of an pharmacies. Even some of the peacekeepers have gone to her when their own doctors have been unavailable.

"Yes, she shows signs of dehydration, fever, low energy and stress. I believe that the fever has caused shills and hallucinations as well. It would not surprise me. It's a sure sign of some type of infection in the body." Mom answers back as she touches my forehead. She's only partly lying, I don't have a fever but my body is exhausted enough that the peacekeepers might buy it. My red face probably selling the lie better.

"So her story is believable, she might actually have been knocked out cold along the fence this entire time." One of the peacekeepers in the back asks. He clearly wants to get out of here, afraid of contracting anything.

"Yes." Mom answers. "The fence is long and there is many small holes and rock that could have hidden her." The peacekeepers behind Darque is clearly willing to end this, they withdraw to the kitchen to discuss it. I realize that if they leave we have an entire colt sitting against our house-wall.

I wonder if I should say something to mom and get her to secure it before anyone discovers it, but as I move to speak I hear a new voice at the door.

"Mom! Mom?! Gale hadn't seen her either... Should I, umh, maybe make tea?" It's Prim's voice, her soft and sweet voice. She is home. She must have been out looking of for me, scared that I have been killed, wounded or worse.

"I'm in here." I yell out to her. I hear her light patter as she hurries to our room. Her entire face lights up when she sees me.

"Katniss!" she exclaims. "You're ok." She says with laughter, clearly relieved to see me. I laugh with her, for that is exactly what I think back. My sister stands before me, alive and well and I can't keep myself from drinking her in. I stare at her, my eyes tearing up.

I wordlessly open my arms for her to run into. I need a hug, desperately. She seems to sense it and rushes into my arms. I embrace her hard. I think I will never let her go again. I burry my head in her baby-soft hair and breathe her in. My light is alive and warm, safe once again in my hold. And this time I will not let anything happen to her.

Chapter 6

Prim sits beside me on the bed, happy to comply to my need of closeness. The peacekeepers is still here and Darque seems to be looking for blood. I am scared, nothing I say are making him glader, no, in fact he looks more angry as time passes. The colt I killed to buy me of punishment is useless as a bribe and I have nothing else to bargain with.

To my surprise mom is having much more luck with the underlings, they even drinking tea with her in our kitchen. That woman is amazing, but alas, I am stuck in a small room with an stuck-up nightmare. Darque has been questioning me for the last hour and has of yet told me off my punishment. If I am to live or to die. It is making me extremely nervous, which I suppose helps me look even more sick.

"Ms. Everdeen, I have wasted enough time in your… lovely home." Darque finally says and it is time for judgment. "You will present yourself in two days time, if you are in etiquette health, to receive your punishment from head-peacekeeper Cray."

I give a relieved sigh, my family will not be punished this day. But we will be remembered, this I know. The best part is that it's Cray who's to punish me, a man I have an understanding with. All I have to do is to give him a couple of birds and the punishment will be lessend.

"However…" the peacekeeper goes on, making cold shills travel down my body. "For your family's failure of given notice of your disappearance you will be given a chance to take _their _punishment now." Darque says and smirks.

Hate flare in my body as I can feel Prim start shaking. Whenever a peacekeeper says something a lot of women and young girls has to give themselves to the peacekeepers to save their families, or receive food. Something peacekeepers are quick to use. I have been able to avoid it, as has mom thanks to her healing knowledge.

"What is it you want" I say through clenched teeth.

"I believe that you just the other day brought home a tesserae. Didn't you Ms. Everdeen." Darque says as he looks at a hand-disk. Scrolling though my information. I look at him in horror; That was _food_, our lifeline.

"Yes." I manage to answer, my blood boiling.

"Than it will be confiscated and if not all of it is found it will be added to your punishment." The man states satisfied, a cruel gleam in his eyes. Prim is rigged next to me, if I'm punished harshly we could very well starve to death in the coming months. I could be unable to hunt.

Darque was a much crueler man then I had first thought. He didn't like quick death, no this one liked the slow methods. If we managed to survive we would be very weak and vulnerable, just the way he wanted it. The man gave me the chills.

"Very well, my mother could show you where it is." I say, my eyes dead. Prim tries to get up to lead the way but my hand forces her to stay. She is not leaving this room with that man, not while I'm alive. Darque understand the power he has over us and he make sure that I see him brush his hand along my sister's arm before he leaves. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from attacking him. I bleed.

I pull Prim closer and hold her until I'm calmed. A fire of hate I haven't felt for a long time blossom in my stomach. I can feel the monster that lives inside me rise up and its power makes my skin itch. It take everything I have to contain it and remain seated as I hear the peacekeepers move around in the kitchen. Not a sound comes from me, Prim or mom. Soon after I hear a door closing and I wait until mom is at the door.

"They gone?" I ask. She nods.

"Prim." She looks at me. "Go out and make sure that your goat is still in the back." Prim hurries out, growing pale with fright. If they have taken the goat they are even more doomed than they thought. Mom lets her pass and moves into the room. I almost pushes her from the bed as she sits down, it's hard for me to share space with her, no matter how much I do love her.

"They took everything." She says in a dead voice. Her face paler than before. She is shutting down, I can't let her.

"Was it enough?" I ask. She nods again. I'm relieved. We will just have to make it to the next month before getting a refill, they limit it to one a month to make us more desperate.

"Some of the things was not fully accounted for, but I gave them the bread we made yesterday and the tea, as well as cheese from the goat." She says. "Peacekeeper Darque wanted to protest, but the other two said that it was more than enough."

I nod at her and we sit there, together in silence while we wait for Prim. She is soon back.

"The goat is alright." She tells us with a smile. "We will have some milk in the morning."

We all are relived over this.

"Prim, did you see the peacekeeper leaving the district?" I ask.

"Yes. I think so. They seemed to be in a hurry and I could see some of the neighbors look out the windows." She answers.

I throw of the blanket and rushes out into the kitchen. I stand in our own window and look out. It is dirty but I can see well enough. No neighbor has yet left their house and I smile. Prim and mom follows me curiously.

"What is it Katniss?" Mom asks. I turn around and smile at them.

"I have a surprise for you, but we have to be careful." I say in reply. I look at Prim.

"The corner of Mrs. Cuts house, you know where?" She nods. "In the hollows next to the cracked stone to their house I hide some booty." She looks at me in surprise.

"I want you to go get it, take my bag so no one will look." I say and geuster for mom to go fetch my bag that is by my dirty clothes in the bedroom. Mom hurries away.

Prim looks a bit scared but nods. She will do it, we will need the food. I smile at her courage, I would go myself but we have snitches in the Seam and it is too dangerous. When Mom returns with the empty bag I put it around Prims left shoulder.

"This is what you will do. You will go out the door, but stop to look around more closely." I look into her eyes and make sure that she is listening closely. She is.

"Then you will start scouting your way over to the other houses, appearing to be searching for peacekeepers. The neighbors will be spooked and won't dare leave their homes. Make sure you behave scared and cautious." I tell her. her hands are shaking, she is nervous.

"What will I do next." She ask in a low voice.

"Next you will run toward the Cuts house, there you will trip close to the hole I talked about." I say as I hug her to me, our mother comes closer and start petting Prim's hair.

"Why don't I do it." Mom says. I look at her.

"Because I'm supposed to be sick and you're taking care of me, besides there is more to do later." I tell her, understanding her fear.

"Prim, as you trip make a startled half-shout. Than pretend that you're afraid to draw any peacekeepers attention. Huddle up next to the hole and stay there for a couple of seconds." My voice is grave as I think about the risk Prim is taking. If any cameras is directed to our house at the moment any mistake might cost Prim her life, but if mom or I went that would be a huge warning sign for either the peacekeepers or the neighbors.

The people around us are not evil, but they are desperate and hungry and I have a family to provide for. Prim will have to take this risk so that we can have food on the table.

"And while I huddle up I should try to get whatever's in their into the bag." Prim concludes. I nod, but look uncertain.

"It might be too much for you, focus on the white package and squirrels. Leave the rest if you think it's too much." Prim smiles at the mention of meat, she has no idea about the colt, it would be enough, but that is not what I have in mind.

"Then continue towards Gale's house." This makes them look at me in surprise.

"Shouldn't I run back home?" Prim asks.

"No it would look to suspicious. The idea is to get whatever's in the bag over to Mrs. Hawthorne, they have the basic food at home and I think she would trade you flower and rise."

Mrs. Hawthorne usually had more of the basic food at home saved up as much as she could, she would trade a little of it for the meat. Gale can later trade the meat in the black market, whilst I can't go there for some time now.

"When I went to collect the tesserae did Gale walk with me?" I ask. They look at me a bit worried.

"Are you really sick?" Mom asks. I shake my head.

"No but I think I hit my head in the forest, some things are scrambled." Mom nods and looks at me with concerned eyes, she will make me stay in bed after we get this done.

"Ah! No, Gale stayed at home." Was my answer. I curse, if Gale had been with me that would mean more food for us, but now we would be lucky to get a third of a sack from his mother.

"Okej! Prim, Mrs. Hawthorne won't be able to give you much, but whatever she will give you accept it. We need it more than the meat, trust me on this." My family just goes along with it. I still don't know exactly how old I am or what time of the year it is, but I realize as I look at them that I have been the head of the family for some time now. There is no argument, what I say goes. I'm disgusted by that fact, but it will help us now.

"So I should look scare, get the loot and then hurry towards Gale's house?" Prim ask for clarification.

"No! you will move in that direction and when you are close enough pretend that you get cold feet and run home to Gale. There you will stay until mom comes looking for you. It will be two or three hours. So make sure nothings figures you out for we won't be able to get to you in time." At this Prim pales even more, but instead of crying she make me proud by straightening her back and nod.

We make sure to hash out all the details before she goes, moms' hugging Prim the entire time. We are all scared, but the peacekeeper crippled us and it needs to be done. Soon Prim has opened the door and left. I want to scream for her to return to safety. Mom and I look at the closed door and are both trembling. We would never have sent Prim if it wasn't necessary. That is the only comfortable though we have for our action.

Mom starts making her way over to me, I know she wants me to go to bed, but we need to cover for Prim. Also mom need to bring the colt inside.

"No mom, I sleep later. It is time for your part." I say in a hard voice. I can see she is startled by it and her eyes loses some of it's shine. Ever since father died mom has a hard time staying focused when she is scared, but I need her so I take her into my arms and forces her to look me in the eyes. It brings her back from the brink.

"I know that you are scared, but you need to do this. It's not as dangerous as what Prim is doing, you can do this." I say to her and she just looks back at me.

"I need you to go out in a few minutes, Prim needs time enough to leave the Cuts house. When I think she is cleared you will open the door and start to look around. As if you are searching for her." As I talk mom starts to listen more and more. I realize that she believes that is all she will have to do.

"When you can't find her you turn around and head back inside… just before you enter you stop. You look at the wood I collected and then you start bringing it inside." I tell her, my voice growing thick at the danger we are about to put ourselves in. A danger I put us in. The other peacekeepers would have easily been bought off by the meat, but I had to get the one that still obeyed the law. Figures.

Thankfully mom doesn't fully grasp the severity of the situation, her mind is more to Prim. This is also why I send Prim away, if we are found out the only two that will die is me and mom. Prim will be protected by Gale. The peacekeepers will shoot us point blank, but the people in the Seam will tear us apart if they find out how much meat I have hidden away. They won't be able to stop themselves, the hunger is too great.

"Mom. The wood is more heavy than what you will expect. Whatever you do, do not drop it." I say in a grave voice. I can see her suspect that there are more out there than wood. Before she can start contemplating what exactly I direct her attention to something else. A thought that just appeared to me.

"Mom. What exact time and day is it today?"

"What?"

"Time and day mom."

"Um… It's wednesday, the sixth day of the 73th Hunger Game." She answered. I realize that this means that I am fifteen year old. I am also thankful that I at least don't have to think about the Games for an entire year. Thank the creatures.

"Then the chestnut trees are full a their thorny seeds, right." I ask her. She has to think for a moment, having a hard time jumping from Prims adventure to my everyday questions. Good.

"Yes, but they are uneatable. You know this Katniss. The trees are a mutation and their seeds are unbreakable." Mom says exasperated. Shaking her head and looking at me like I am crazy. Maybe I am.

"And if it is late summer, they are still green. Right?" I ask.

"Well. Yes"

"Good." I say and let the matter drop. Enough time has gone by that Prim should be halfway to Gale's house by now.

"It is time for your part. Are you ready." Mom doesn't answer she just walks to the door. I hide in the shadows. She is gone in an instant and I soon hear her calling for Prim. Nothing else is heard. I can hear mom moving back to the door and place myself behind it. I will help her the moment the door is closed.

Mom opens the door. Take a last look after Prim before she moves to enter, doing exactly as I told her. She then stops and look at the sling, I can see through the door-gap how she takes a strong hold off it and heaved it inside. It is hard on her, but shows nothing for anyone else. I breath a relieved sigh. I am there the moment she closes the door. Taking hold of the straps and drag our price over to the table, then run back and watch carefully out the window.

"We need to be quick, the neighbors will avoid us for the next few days but Gales family might come by." I say excited. I ripp of the branches and I hear mom's surprised gasp behind me. I turn with a happy smile towards her.

"We will have meat the next few weeks." I say and laugh, mom soon joins me.

We forget about Prim as we work on quarter the colt. The meat before us has taken first priority. It will keep us from starvation until I can go back into the forest. It's a good thing that it's august, the forest is rich with food. Before I only had father's book as a guide in scavenging, but now I have so much more knowledge. Where's before the isolation made new knowledge hard to come by I now have a vast source to draw from. For example, the hazelnut trees in district twelve had been an unknown food-source, until Johanna had shown me how to open them.

Within two hours we have skinned the colt, hanged it up for draining and empty it from its insides. The leaves from the branches working as stuffing and drying-tool. We emptied out the pantry and hanged the colt in there. We will leave it till it's tenderized before we cut it up and process it. Thankfully the pantry is towards the vest and shadows from the outside, thus always cold all year around.

Inside we put some sand and vinegar to mask its scent. When we were done we cleaned out the intestine to make sausage later, letting it soak in a tub. The blood could be made into a pudding, most of which we could give to Gale's family. They needed it and we couldn't eat everything before it went bad.

When we finally had everything finished and cleaned away the evidence we hurried to get mom into some clean clothes. When she was ready she said goodbye and then hurried off to find Prim. We both hoped that she had made it safe to Gale's. We would soon see. I couldn't follow her even though I wished for nothing more, instead I laid my exhausted self on my mattress and soon was asleep.

Chapter 7

It was odd how quick I got used to the hunger again, for despise my learnings and many hunting trips we still went hungry most of the time. The meat from the colt was good but went quickly. Mom had given most of it away to get medicine when a disease spread amongst the people in the Seam. I had bared it because that's the way of my mother, even if it vexed me.

In the months that passed I slowly adapted myself to the new situation. It was harder than anything I have done before. Prim had made it safely to Gale's mother and had managed to collect almost everything from the hollow. Which was good because Mrs. Hawthorne made a much better trade than expected. I later learned that Gale had gone to the mayor with the barrier and birds, thus managing to get flour and other basic supplies from the hob.

The first time I interacted with Gale after coming back was at my house, it was a horrid meeting. I had a hard time preventing myself from shouting at him and demanding him to leave. Blaming my mood on my sickness. He forgave me. I got better at being around him as time moved on. The one that was hardest to see was Peeta. We had the same classes and I avoided as best I could. Every time I saw his eyes sky-blue eyes, dirty-blond hair or gentle smile I turned away. Ignoring him while my heart pounded and I struggled staying focused. It was a nightmare, I hated feeling so weak.

It wasn't easy to adapt to my old life. There were more bad days than good ones. Mom and Prim bore it, helping me every step of the way. I never told them why I was so different, I guess they just assumed I had a breakdown. Not far of the truth, the cause being the thing that differentiated. Some days I missed my family more than I loved Prim, those day where dark ones for I couldn't stand looking at my own sister. Other where full of rage and violence, those days I hunted in the forest alone. Gale avoiding me until I had calmed.

The bright side with my return where the food I could gather, it was more than my family needed so Gale´s family got the excess. No one ask about it, Gale just ask me to teach him. I did. I also had Prim teach some of it to the others in the Seam. How to dry fruit, handle different roots, barks and fungus that before we couldn´t. It meant less children starving to death in the coming winter.

I didn't have the nerve to do it myself, every face I saw face reminding me daily of my past and gave me nightmare. I couldn't stand looking at the desperate mothers' and hungry children. The miners I could handle, they were faceless beings and easy to ignore, but the mothers' who fought every day for more food to their young... that I couldn't ignore.

As time moved on and fall and then winter came I got better, more stable. I still had bad episodes but not as often or as violent. I was glad over it. Some days I was depressed but my sister got better and better at drawing me out, made me interact with her and others. I never actively chose to spent time with any other than my sister, but I slowly started to accept Gale and his family once again. Some days it felt as if I had just met him, cautious but curious interaction with each other. Other days, they would be bad ones.

Every month I made new plans on how to face the future. Somedays when I was angry I planned to burn down the entire capitol and piss on president Snow's ashes. Those days I hide myself away from peacekeepers and my family; I can still remember the pain from my punishment. Cray had been lenient, he wanted meat I could gather for him, but I still weak for days after. They hadn't whipped me, but I was brutally caned.

Part of me was grateful to him for it since could have been much worse, but mostly I was angry. The anger was good, it kept me grounded. Especially when the peacekeepers reminded everyone of their place. It was a known fact that when one of us went against the norm the peacekeepers would be more harsh in the days that followed. After the canning people came to mom baring bruises or broken tools, because of me. from peacekeepers. It was hard having to stand there and hear it, knowing that I was to blame. At the time I had worried more of my family surviving.

So time had passed; summer turning to fall, fall to winter, winter to spring. Soon spring would be over and as the trees bloomed and the weather grew hotter I got more and more scared. The 74th Hunger Games was on it's way and I dreamt nightmare about it everyday.

I prayed every night that this time it would be different. Mother and Prim tried to comfort me, but for everyday that passed I grew a bit more hollowed inside. I could feel the burden of the future crushing me slowly and I despaired. I couldn't decide what to do, it was impossible to control others action and counteract them when you have no idea how it work the first time. I hated the vulnerability I felt. It was paralyzing.

Before I could think, before I could plan. Before I could do anything the time had suddenly run out. I had no more time and I felt most unprepared. I was going to have to face the probability that I had to relive the hell I once defeated. i wanted to scream.

**End part I**


	5. Chapter 8 & (9)

**Hunger Games; a Timetravels paradox**

**by **

**Demonkakan **

**Part II**

The Hunger Game-trilogy belongs to Suzanne Collins, one of the greatest writer ever born. I don't own the story, mainly giving it my own twist because I want to, so please don't sue. This is a fanfic and the originals is so much better so run and read it if you haven't.

I also am going a lot after the original. I don't have the talent to deviate from Collins work, so a **lot **will be familiar to her readers. Don't hate me for my lack of imagination.

_*thinking*_

"talking"

"**Screaming"**

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Chapter 8

I wake slowly, my body stiff and cold. I don't want to move, but my hand reaches out for the warmth that should be next to me. It's not there, she is not there. My heart jumpstarts and cold panic sieges me. Where is she, is she okay, is she dead… those are the thought that always come to me when she leaves the bed. When she leaves my side to go to hers. Even after all these months I still can't relax when her side of the bed is empty.

She must have had a bad dream, no matter what she never comes to me with those. Some part of me, even after so many years hate my mother for that privilege. That Prim seeks comfort from her in the dark and not me.

I sit up, trying to get some life into my limbs. There's enough light in the bedroom to see them. Her soft baby-blond-hair sticking up next to mother's pale-blond. She is safe. But the question is for how long? This is the day of the reaping; the day our life changed and the beginning of the end started. I have feared this day for months. I still can't figure out what to do. I'm no hero, my only goal in life is to see my sister safe.

She won't be safe, not today. Not if the reaping goes the same. I have prayed to every false god I remember, but I doubt they would hear me. She's going to be picked, the fear is suffocating. I can't stop it from happening, all I can do is volunteer, again. _*That work so well the last time, didn't it.*_

I look towards my mom, suddenly hit with the urge to seek comfort in her like Prim does, but she looks so fragile and worn. Once I would have said my mother look young and at peace when she slept, that's no longer true. In her sleep she looks as world-worn as she is awake.

I never realized before what exactly my father's passing did to her, he must have been her everything. Even her love for us are not enough to keep her strong. She's like a corps most days, why Prim and our friends don't see it I don't know. I would have become like her, I think as I look at her, if not for Peeta. He hadn't allow me to become ash; He and Haymitch both refused to let me kindle.

I get up and walk with silent step towards them. My sister's beautiful face bringing a soft smile to my face. I haven't smiled a lot lately, only with her.

Prim's face is fresh as a raindrop; lovely like the primrose she's named after. Looking so innocent; like sunlight captured in shadows. Gale's mother once said that Prims looks come from our mom, that when she was young she had the exact same appearance as her. To me Prim is Prim and there are only one like her.

A low meow bring my eyes down, my arch-nemesis is at my feet; Buttercup. He too looks at the pair. I sometime think he knows that I'm a freak; that I have traveled back in time. But he seems to be content with my presence near his owner, so we simple ignore eachother.

I still hate the beast. He is the meanest and ugliest creature I have ever been near. A mashed-in nose, half an ear missing, eyes the color of rotting squash and a breath that could kill peacekeepers. There is nothing pretty about him. Prim off course loves him; she loves everything ugly and twisted, just look at her family.

I turn away from them as Buttercup jumps up and settles beside Prim. A silent agreement that while I hunt he will guard her. I get my clothes and get dressed. I haven't grown that much since I got back, the clothes still fits on me, even if they are starting to get tight. I have save up enough money to buy new ones for Prim and I, just in case we both can go home after the reaping. Who knows, we might get lucky.

When I'm dressed I grab my forage-bag and head out. As I reach the kitchen I slip into my father's hunting-jacket, tie my hair into a braid and hide it underneath. As I pass the table I see Prim's reaping-gift to me, a bit of cheese well protected from the rats, and stuff it down a pocket. I open and close the door silently and sneak off towards the meadow.

I know that Gale will be hunting with me later, but for now the forest is mine. I still have instances when I hate his mere presence but I have started to get more and more used to the fact that he's not that Gale, the man that sold me out. From our talks and exploration of the forest I have realized that Gale is nowhere near the person he once was. He is more mature than others, yet he still looks at the world through a child's eyes.

I like his simple view of what is right and wrong. What he perceives as justice feels to me like an illusion; nothing is that black and white, good or evil. The world is ruled by greed and power, everyone else caught in-between. A dark look on life, but humans are animals. We hide our greed behind find words, but we are all killers.

Some regimes are better than others but nothing can't stop our very nature. It took me a long time to see that and my Gale never did, he believe that everything can be good and perfect. I myself no longer want to live in such a world. It would have no place for me. What I want is a somewhat safe life with Prim. Food to eat and a place to sleep, the rest is an illusion and I rather live without it.

I'm up so early that I know that the Seam will be full of coal miners heading home from the night shift. I will blend in with them nicely. When I had first woken up in the past it was in an early morning like this one, but I had hardly thought at all about the miners. About the men and women with hunched shoulders, swollen knuckles and dead faces. I have hardly stopped thinking about them since.

I think that as a person steps into those mines they give up their life, down in those tunnels laise nothing but despair and darkness. It always scared me when I was young, especially after my father's death. I hated the mines, but I would rather stay down below for the rest of my life if it kept me away from President Snow's watchful eye.

…

The streets was full as I walk my usual path through the Seam. The capitol always made people go home and clean themselves before the reaping. They wanted us cleaned before we went to the town's square at two o'clock. Today we would even have fresh water to bath in. If not for the children we had to sacrifice for our dead-end-way of life people would look forward to this day. After all a free day is a hard thing to come by, the children are at school almost every day and the workers down in the mines.

The day-miners a most likely home; sleeping or being with their children. Since coming back here I remember _why _I never wanted children. They had no hope in this world.

The seam is quiet, people are minding their own business. Leaving me free to move about. The peacekeeper I do see are too busy with stray miners to mind me, I'm walking in the wrong direction to worry them. It is not long before I reach the scruffy field called the Meadow. The capitols high chain-link-fence the only thing keeping me away from the forest. Not for long, I know every hole the fence has and have used them shamelessly for years to come and go as I like.

I remember how scared I was at first after coming back. Every step I took was like a nightmare. I saw peacekeeper in every shadow and mots in every tree. I hadn't even dared speak after my punishment, even with my knowledge about their spy-net. My love for the forest had made me pull through and slowly I had adapted. Perhaps even more since I have used my knowledge to feed Gale's and my family.

I carefully listen after the signs of electricity, luckily there's none. I easily slip underneath the gap, hidden behind clump of bushes, and are through. I run over the field and let the forest swallow me. After retrieving my bow and arrows I begin the morning hunt, hoping for some rabbits and some squirrels, just in case mom and Prim needs meat for the time to come. They might need it.

I travel light on my feet, careful of predators or hover-crafts. Predator don't come this close to the fence but they do occasionally reside in the area. The only thing I am really concerned about is the bear that lives by a lake, two hour from here. It usually come this way when the berries and the mushrooms blooms.

I collect plenty of nuts, berries and edible plants as I walk, based of the knowledge from my and Johanna. Who knew that there existed a nut inside the hard and pointy shell of an chesnut. They are an absolute treat at wintertime when roasted. Prim loves them. As would father have, still so many years ago since I lost him and I still wish for him to be by my side.

Some of my finding I will trade at the Hub. Not even the trains for the elite carry much food, making Gale and me a valued rarity. As long as we keep away from the unit runned by that idiot Darque other peacekeepers turn a blind eye to our exploits in the woods. We take care to never get caught or speak about our trips beyond the fence.

Not even in the Hob can you speak freely amongst your kind. Discuss little more than trades in the Hob and you will be gone the next day. Since I was eleven I have avoided discussing tricky topics. Like the reaping, hunting, food shortages or the Hunger games. Panem has never been a place where I felt safe, not even after the war. I sometimes wonder if it should even exist, if any system could work or if we all should leave eachother alone completely.

After spending two hour hunting I've managed to capture three rabbits and two birds. After securing my bounty I start traveling to the rock ledge, the one I know Gale will be at for it has a beautiful outlook over the forest and are hidden by thick berry-bushes. I will probably hunt with him for an hour more after we eaten before he takes the traps to the east and I those to the west. I won't have to suffer his company long and will be home in time for my bath.

…

I school my face as I approach, my old friend basking in the sun. He seems at ease and I find his peacefulness relaxing. I'm slowly becoming reconciled with Gale, even though he's unaware of our distance. We will never be as close as before, but I can't escape his importance in mine and Prims life. The sight of him waiting there brings back so many happy memories and I'm slowly forgetting all the bad ones.

I snap a branch as I approach and he turns around. He smiles broadly at me and waves. "Hey, Catnip," the only one that that calls me that name are him and it goes a long way of me seeing the Gale now then the Gale of the future. The feeling behind the name softer.

"Look what I shot," Gale says with a smirk. I know what he will show me. A loaf of bread with an arrow stuck in it.

I can smell it and I just know that it is Peeta that has baked it. I force out a strained laugh Gale presents his catch. I have hardly spoken to Peeta since coming back, avoiding him as much as possible. A smile from him could break me and I can't allow it. With Gale and Prim I can be strong, but Peeta has the ability to break my walls and with so much on the line it's too dangerous.

"Mm, still warm," He says. He must have been at the bakery at the crack of dawn to trade for it.

"I got it from the butcher." Gale explains as he breaks the bread in two, handing me a half. "His son's birthday is coming up and he wanted to surprise him, so he traded it for a squirrel."

I give a nod. I take out the cheese from Prim and give half of it to Gale.

"Well, here is a pending birthday." I say in a capitol-accent and lift the bread in a jester of a toast.

"And a happy Hungers game." Gale finishes.

We eat the bread slow and enjoy the quite. That's the best thing with being stuck with Gale, he doesn't talk endlessly. I can relax somewhat and just enjoy the small freedom that I got out here.

After we have eaten I'm ready to head out once again, but before I can voice it Gale starts talking in a quiet voice, his eyes staring out over the valley.

"We could do it, you know."

"What?" I ask, suspecting the direction he's going.

"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it," Gale sounds wishful, but he knows it's a lie. We could never leave our families.

We may be skilled hunters, but the capitol will find us quickly if we take our siblings. Just as they did the Avox girl so many years ago. I can still see her brothers face as they killed him. That would be Prims faith if we ran; hunted like an animal, no mercy would be shown.

"Not with those scaredy-cats back home Gale. They would never make it one day out here." I say. He agrees with me. We stop talking about a possible freedom and pack our things, thankfully without any more words said.

After heading out again, Gale close on my trail, we let the trees hide us. We won't split up for another ten minutes, but before we come to the cross Gale starts talking again.

"I know that you want to hunt some more, but what do you say about fishing? We haven't done that for a long time and our families could do with some fish."

It is common for the districts to celebrate at the evening after the reaping, many parents because of the relief that their children is safe others. Gale wants fish so that he can share its rare meat with his family tonight. But the thought of fishing makes me sick, remembering the poisoned fish in district four. Many had eaten the fish and died painful deaths. Their main food-source had been uneatable for years after the war.

Gale looks so eager that I don't have the heart to protest, knowing he has notice how withdrawn I have been towards him this last few months, so I follow him out of guilt to our fishing place. We catch some fish, Gale happier about it than me and after a while I convince him to stop. The rest of the time we spend collecting greens and strawberries. The greens is for the younger siblings and the strawberries for our mothers to make jam. I try to play nice but the more time passes the harder it gets.

Thanks to Rue's and Johanna's districts I had learned how to harvest sap, the tough part being how to build a container and a drainer. This of course was something I keep close at heart, the trees inside the district would be destroyed within weeks if anyone found out.

If the trees died then the peacekeepers would investigate; I would be found out and most likely killed. Gale had once asked me to show him; I had asked him back if he could keep quiet even if we had a hard winter. He didn't ask again, he never was as pragmatic as I when it came to surviving. He didn't hate me for it, but he couldn't understand it either really.

After collecting one of the sap-containers from a hidden spot, Gale waiting a bit back out of respect, I suddenly thought of something. I almost cursed myself for almost missing it.

"Gale!" I call out.

"What?" he answers, worry in his voice. He think I spotted something, a craft or a predator.

"Come here." Is all I say.

Gale take a few seconds, but he soon appears behind a bush. I hold my tongue until he is by my side. He looks around and slowly relaxes as he finds the forest calm and danger-free. He looks at me with questioning eyes.

"If it's me... you need to know." My word is enough explanation. Gale's entire face forms into a pained expression. He hate talking about this, but for the sake of our siblings I will force him to.

"No Catnip…" I hush him and look at him with determination.

"If it is me... my secret stash will be forgotten and our little ones will suffer for it. You know this, I need you to know, ok?" I say in a soft voice. He looks back at me and nods.

I could always count on him on in these situation. He will always look after our siblings, no matter what. It is what once drew me to him and made me love him. That is why his betrayal had hurt so much, for even if I could never be _inlove_ with him he had broken my heart that day.

Leaving those thought in the back of my mind I take Gale hand and show him my treasure. It has over ten filled containers of sap, three knifes, dried leaves and herbs. It will most of the fall and then some if Gale is watchful with it. I protect it for predators with thorn bushes and rocks. I also have smell-traps set around in holes in case a bear comes by. Something I learned in the farmer-district.

After Gale has learned the route to the pit we head to the hob; the black market of district twelve, intact in an old warehouse, once used to store coal before more adapt measures was created. We soon have traded most of the fish for bread, salt, medicine and paraffin.

Gale and I usually sell most of the strawberries before we mixed the rest with sap, but know we hold onto almost the entire pick. Today we want some cash so after the hob we swing by the mayor's and knock on the back door.

The mayor's daughter, Madge, opens. I still have a hard time meeting her eyes, for I know that in my time she's dead. She had been the closest thing to a girl-friend I ever come before the games. Her withdrawn disposition suited my sulky one. Today she's dressed in an expensive white dress, and her blonde hair is done up with a pink ribbon; Reaping clothes.

"Pretty dress," Gale almost snarls and I have to bite my lip not snap at him. Madge just nods stiffly and ask what we want. We sell her some strawberries and get ten credits.

Gale is a bit colder towards Madge than me, a lot of it because of the class difference between us. Madge can at most have five entries, one extra for every year she partake. Whilst we two have bought over twenty tesserae by now.

That's the trap, the _tesserae_. It's the capitol's offer to everyone. Every child between the ages of twelve to eighteen can buy a tesserae, a meager year's supply of grain and oil for a person. upping your chances at being chosen for the Hunger games.

You can see why someone like Madge, who has never been at risk of needing a tesserae, can set him off. In fact the upper class of our part in the district has the most surviving number of children in comparison to other districts. A fact that comes from our meager food ration and we haven't won the Hunger Game for twenty-three years.

It's a subject that have always weigh heavy upon Gale's shoulder, always will. He sees the genius of the act. It's a way for the capitol to divide the people, strike fear and obedience. Keep the people weak and remain in power. I could never see that as well as him, not until after the Hunger games. I still marvel over his insight.

As we walk home I keep glancing at his face. Gales rage seem pointless to me, but I hold my tongue. There is nothing that can be done at this time against the Capitol's games, but perhaps someday soon that will change_._

Before we part ways the bounty is split up between us. I give him some of my prey and he gives me a couple of fishes. The bread, salt, paraffin, greens and strawberries we split even and say goodbye. It has been one of our better days, when I haven't been plagued by our past happenings and that gives me a strange warm feeling in my belly. I think it's joy, joy that I finally can start becoming friends with Gale again.

Our last parting word to each other is;

"See you in the square… And may the odds be ever in your favor."

...

When I come home mom and sister has already finished. Mom's in an old dress from her apothecary days. Prim is dressed in my old reaping outfit, a blue skirt and ruffled blouse, hold together with fifteen pins.

I look at my mother. She is standing in front of me, avoiding my eyes. It has been like this ever since my father died. It never got to the point where we could look at each other with ease again. At the start it was because she let us fend for ourselves, we had almost starved to death before she even begun waking up from her trans. I could never bring myself to forgive her for that, but later it was for the fact that we both blamed me for getting Prim killed. We never said it out loud but the words was never needed. She once failed Prim by leaving us and I failed her by allowing her to become a pawn in the war.

I look at her, my heart cold. A huge cliff stands between us and I am not really inclined to close it, too much bad blood.

I hurry to the bathtub and scrub myself down. If you come dirty to the square you will lose a fifth of your grain. They keep track of every child whose name is in the bowl. Grownups gets away with it a bit, but the children must look clean and fresh. Gods forbid that the poor capitolists would see us for the dirty kids we are. They might faint.

On my bed mom's old summer dress waits for me. I go cold as I see it. It is connected the games. I at first don't want to put it on, but mom looks so hopeful that I manage to force myself. The fabric is soft, but feels like hot lava on me. I want to rip it off but stop myself. Its the only dress I fit in.

"You look like a lady Katniss." Mom says in a soft voice. She almost looks proud as she studies me. I swallow hard. The words hard to process.

"Let's put your hair up, too," she says, her voice light. I smile a stiff smile. The thought of her hands on me make me sick. I bite my tongue and sit down on the kitchen chair and allow her to towel-dry and braid. As mom works on my hair it occurs to me that I hold my tongue a lot. I'm so afraid of saying something or doing something odd or wrong that I have become a very silent being.

I remember how scared my mother was when I was younger, then I always spoke my mind and voiced my opinions without care. Now I've learned to keep my thought private, now no one but me even suspects some of the things I contemplate over. It occurs to me how dangerous that is. After all, if you are surrounded by loved once and you have no one to talk to you are truly a lonely creature. This brings pain to my heart and I feel abandoned. There is no one here to understand my situation. I am truly alone.

Before I could seek comfort in Prim, but I realize that I can never be open with her.

Not without risking her dying...

Chapter 9

I have managed to collect myself somewhat by the time mom's done and shows me the result. I was lucky that she and Prim had started up a light conversation before the attack. I have them a lot; gaps of depressions, anger and panic. It is hard not to when you have so many things weighing you down. It's a miracle that I haven't gone insane yet.

Prim is the one that keeps me going, her mere presence do as much for me as Peeta's stuberness had after the war. The fact both are alive, well and safe fills my dark moments with light. I need those when the faces of dead people greets me in the Seam; The very life we live. Sometimes I can't make myself leave the bed.

It is Prims hushed voice that brings my eyes up so that I can look at myself in our cracked mirror. She thinks I'm beautiful and I have to agree. My mother intrigue braid and the bath has brought out my youthfulness and I look nothing like I feel. I give Prim a smile and she gives one back, both strained. The day will be a hard one for us both.

The first time around I hardly thought about it, Prim's name in the bowl. To me the chances had been so insignificant; I or the other older children in the Seam at a much higher risk.

Now I knew better and I was as scared as her, the difference is I must work with the fear. The games was one I could handle. Prim being chosen was not, Peeta being tortured was not, Prim dying was not. Not knowing and unable to do anything was not. Those fears was slowly overwhelming me. Reminding me of dad's death.

After the explosion mom had disappeared into herself. Leaving me to take care of Prim. I have never been as scared as I was at that time; sneaking into the woods alone, without him. I have never felt such fears in my life. If not for my sister's starving face I would never had dared to enter.

Just as that time I will swallow my fear, even if it overwhelms me, and protect Prim with everything I got. I take hold of her blouse, its bottom sticking out, and smile at her. taking comfort in her warmth.

"Tuck your tail in, little duck," I say. It brings an irritating frown to her face, she has probably already done so at least three times already and she hurries to do it again. When she is done she looks back at me and huffs and says in her light voice;

"Quack."

"Quack yourself," I say with a light laugh.

It's a laugh that has only ever been Prims doing, not even Peeta could bring it out.

We usually eat before the reaping but I can't bear to eat anything and instead ask if we can go to the hills and just spend time together. Prim smiles at this so mom agrees. We don't pack any food, but Prim does bring some of the strawberries. We spend the rest of our time together under the pale sun and just soak in each other's presence.

When it is time for us to go I hug mom stiffly. She is surprised but lets it go. I hug Prim to me to and kiss her on the forehead. We walk in silence the last few minutes, briefly stopping by Gale's house to join up with his family.

We arrive to the square with a half-hour to spare. Attendance is mandatory so the entire square is full already, only the area reserved for the children still has open pockets.

…

It is still odd for me to stand here, with the children of district twelve. Every child from the age twelve to eighteen is here today, herded together towards the middle of the square to await our sentence. The reaping has always been hold in the square, it is where the nicest shops are and the cleanest place in all of district twelve. It could be a pleasant place, but the bright banners and cameras that is focused on us only brings home that soon two children will be sent away to slaughter.

One's likely to be me and the other Peeta. I look for him in the crowed. I want to see him before the reaping starts. Suddenly that's very important. Is stand on my toes and look at every blond head I see, my hand rest lightly on my sister shoulders as we stand in the line for registration. I hardly feel when they prick me, my eyes is searching.

Just before we are split up for our sections I see him. When the guards are not looking I split from Gale and manage to catch up to him. Peeta has just gotten registered and are moving towards his spot, but I manage to grab his arm before the crowd hides him. He's surprised. The other boys move around us, hiding us from the guards unintentionally. We will have a few seconds at the most before they spot me here.

I look at him, his blue eyes swallowing me. I can remember all the happy times we once shared together, but he doesn't know me. It hurts, it hurts so bad that I have a hard time breathing. I know the time is short but I can't bring myself to speak.

Instead of breaking free he turns towards me and takes a step closer. My nose is filled with the smell of him, flour and spices, tears fills my eyes. He suddenly hugs me close, I'm stiff in his arms. It's Peeta I'm touching and I don't want to stop. This is my husband, the boy that will grow to become my hope in life. I have feared this moment for an entire year and still here I now stand, seeking him out of shellfish need.

It feels so right to be here, but I can't allow myself the comfort. I have to get back to my side before anyone sees. He pulls at my braid softly as I pull back. A soft smile greets me as he lets me go.

"You can do this Katniss." He says before he turns away and disappears into the boy's corner. I lose him quickly. I was the one that was supposed to talk, not him. But as always Peeta beats me to the punch, I shouldn't be surprised by that.

Gale is suddenly besides me. Eyeing me with concern, he sees that I'm upset but missed interaction with Peeta.I can hear him trying to talk to me, but all I can give him is a quick squeeze of a hand and then I'm gone. As I take my place I see Prim looking for me and wave. I will be keeping a close eye on her from this moment on, it is only fifteen-minutes before the reaping starts.

I hope that my many prayers has been heard.

…

As time passes the space gets tighter, more claustrophobic as people arrive. The square's quite large, but not enough to hold district twelve's population. That's why the streets has been decorated with thousands of small screen; so that everyone can follow the reaping. The screens shows the temporary stage in front of the justice building, a sterile stage built that holds three chairs, a podium, and two large glass balls; one for the boys and one for the girls.

I hate those glass balls, one of them holds a small piece of paper with my sister's name on it and I want nothing more than to rush up there and throw that crystal ball into the ground and tear every bit of paper to shreds.

I sometimes wonder if I am as insane as I imagine myself to be. The roller-coaster ride of emotion that I have exhausts me; one moment I'm filled with anger, the next I'm almost in tears and seconds after that I'm a hollow shell. Most days I don't know what happening to me, but I struggle on.

My thought are interrupted as the Mayor walks up on the stage; he begins his traditional speech and I quickly lose interest. I focus my eyes on Prims instead and see that her shirt has slipped up again in the back. I smile at it. T

he mayor looks nervous where he stands, his people silent at his feet. We are starved and dirty; he is fat and well dressed. H is a kind man, he hates to send away two innocent children to slaughter. The other choice being the death of him or twelve.

Soon it's time for the victorious tributes to enter the stage. We only have one; Haymitch Abernathy, survivor of the second quarter-quell; he was fourteen. Now he's in his late thirties and a drunk. You can see beer-stains on his purple vest as he walks onto the stage, his legs unstable. Like most in twelve he's slim, even after years of wealth his body has trouble putting on fat and muscle. His dirty-blond hair is masking his face and keeps everyone from noticing the intelligence in his eyes,_ *their mistake_.*

After him comes the capitols escort; _Effie Trinket_. Dressed in a pink wig, a scary white grin, and plastic-pink dress, with matching shoes. She's like a mouse on speed; quick, squeaky and dumb as a box... for most part. She can be a cunning fox in social circles and fashion, take her away from those and she's useless.

The mayor gives her a quick greeting before they hurry to get Haymitch seated, the man making an absolute fool of himself by dancing around the two of them. It makes me remember why I love Haymitch like a demented uncle, he can always make my day brighter.

As the anthem starts president Snow's melodic-voice seeps through the speakers. Telling us of the world before Panem; about the war, the hunger, despair and later the uprising of thirteen. leading up to the Hunger games.

It pisses me off since thirteen's alive and well, but still here we are paying the price. I'm being unfair, but their part in Prim's death has forever turned me from them.

The Hunger Games in itself was never a complicated game, just brutal. The former president of Panem design the Games to break down resistance; every year twenty-four tributes were chosen to fight in an undisclosed arena until just one lived, it could go one for mere hours up to four weeks. Depending on the viewers and sponsors interest, as well as the tributes skills.

This tactic has won the Capitol over seventy-three years of obedience. To be forced to watch your children being slaughtered and killed for amusement kept us in check, the food kept us grateful and the tributes gave us pride. But as Finnick once said; No one wins the game, we are forever in their grasp. I dread what is before me. A life of slavery, in pretty clothes amongst greedy capitolists or generals. Every tribute can be bought, refusal leading to a loved ones death. That's what could have awaited my sister, the thought makes me sick to my stomach.

As the president speaks I meet Gale's eyes and we both send the other a small smirk when he talks about the odds; twelve hardly have any odds. Before Peeta and I there was no winner, making us into a joke in the arena. I'm almost glad of it, a joke is better than a symbol. Symbols gets killed or hunted and I would like to avoid it this time around.

Bright and bubbly as ever Effie Trinket steps forward when the speech is over. drying a fake tear as she stands behind the podium and gives her signature greeting; "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Big brown eyes looking into the audience, playing her part well.

I stare at the bowls, one slip has Prim's name… while Gale and I have over fifty. As I look to him I know he's thinking of it. He looks to me, pale and stressed. i try to be brave for him and mime; "…. there are still thousands of slips, you will make it…" I don't think he understood me, but he looks a little bit more at ease. For the rest of the reaping he is turned away from me. I leave him be.

…

Suddenly we have come to the part I have feared the most. Effie is done and ar moving to the girls bowl.

"Ladies first!" she exclaims and happily reaches in and delicately pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd draws in a collective breath, you can hear a pin drop. I want to kill her at that moment as she takes the note into her hands. I want to scream, shout and claw her to pieces. That piece of paper is very likely to be my sister and there is this pink thing ready to condemn her to death. I can feel my pulse increasing and I suddenly hear a ringing in my ears and my vision is turning red and black.

I am on my way to black out, a terror greater than anything else stops me. If I faint no one can save Prim. I force myself back to the present and to my horror I suddenly realize that Effie has already said a name and I missed which one. I look around for Prim. _*Is it her? Is she safe? Have they taken her yet?*_

The entire square is silent and no one is moving. I can't figure out if they said my sister's name or not. I am stuck in a moment of immobility. I need something to jump start me, I have frozen, don't know what's happening... I need help. Someone wake me up.

_*I need to save Prim.*_


	6. Chapter 10 & 11

The original work belongs to Suzanne Collins and her publishers or any other co-owner. I'm merely borrowing her epic work to make my own spin; the idea of a time-travel simply refusing to leave me alone, so I had to write it.

_I'm making no profits from this and the story isn't that good, if you haven't read Collins magnificent work I suggest you do. My messy fanfic is but a gnat in her shadow. __If anyone is offended I'm very sorry._

Chapter 10

There's no air in my lungs and my hands are shaking. It feels like I am drowning and there is nothing that can save me. I hate it, can't make myself act. People around me starts moving, but I'm still stuck. Unable to breathe or speak; just silently waiting for the chosen to move. Is it Prim?

Suddenly someone is gripping my arm hard, brutal… suddenly I'm free. Time is moving normally again and I look at my savior; It is Madge. She has come up to me and her eyes is filled with tears. I almost shout with joy, think for a second that it's her that's chosen. But she has pity in her eyes and she's not looking at me, but at Prim.

Oh no. Please no, not again. It already happen once, please let it not be her. Let it be a mistake. This can't be happening again. Prim was one slip of paper in thousands! She had a chance to make it, me being back should have made some in-packed surely.

I should scream stop, that I volunteer, but I'm still stuck. Unsure if it's really her. Madge grip on my arm holding me in the presence, but I want to slip away I realise. I don't want to go through it again, not for anything. I distantly hear how the crowd murmurs unhappily, they hate it when it's the young.

I close my eyes hard. When I force them open again they lock with my sisters. Prims face is drained from blood, her hands clenched in fists and she is in shock. Then she's moving, away from me and towards the peacekeepers. They are making their way towards her, to lead her to the podium.

The lost look in her eyes is what brings me back; The silent cry for help gives me a voice again and I can finally move my body. I rip my arm from Madge grip and start moving. I have no calms about pushing the people before me out of my way.

"Prim!" I cry out, my throat thick with emotion making it hard to hear, even in the silence around us. I cry out again as I move forward. A path opens up to me and I'm meters away from her when I reach out. She is about to mount the steps, never once turning around. To terrified to hear me. Just as I grab her arm peacekeepers stops me. A wrong movement and they will kill me. I make sure to have a firm grip on Prim before I shout towards the podium;

"I volunteer!" I roar. "I volunteer as tribute!"

There. I said it once again. The Game is on, but this time I will find a way to ensure Prims safety. Even if I have to sleep with the fiend himself.

At my declaration the peacekeepers backed away, now it's in the hands of the mayor. There's some confusion on the stage at first. No one has ever volunteered in twelve before. The mayor is unsure what actions to take. I can feel Prim shaking underneath my grip.

I ignore Effie as she struts around like a chicken and keep my focus on the mayor. He is in a silent conversation with Haymitch and it's forever before he speaks.

"Let her come forward." The mayor states, looking at me with a pained expression. I'm the closest thing of a friend his daughter has, he knows me. At the mayor's words Prim starts screaming. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" She's clinging to me desperate. She doesn't want to be saved by sacrificing me. I see the Peacekeepers getting nervous, a child screams might lead to a riot. I need to get her out of here.

"Prim, let go," I say harshly. As I struggle to make her Gale finally arrives. He calmly pulls her off me and lifts her of the ground. Prim's thrashing in his arms, trying to get loose but he has her. I love him at that moment, knowing that he will keep her safe and bring her to our mother.

"Up you go, Catnip," he says in a hushed tone, his voice unsteady. I nod and watch him carry Prim away from me before braving the steps behind me. They will lead me to pain and horror, but I must climb them. I steel myself and take the first step. As I climb Effie starts gushing noises and I do my best to listen to her even though her voice grates my nerves.

"Well, bravo! That's the spirit of the Games!" She's exclaims, clearly pleased to finally have a district with a little action going on in it. "What's your name?" she ask me as I step up on the podium and turn towards the crowd.

"Katniss Everdeen," I say, my voice devoid of emotion. Stopping myself from showing any emotion.

Effie continue her merry quacking and at the right moments I nod appropriately. I just keep staring out over the crown and see the many faces of district twelve. I want to puke, they might think of me as dead but I've seen their smokin bodies before my eyes and it hurts having to look at them. They are my people and I realize how utterly hopeless our future are. I remember Gale's words, how only nine-hundred people made it out of ten-thousand. And it all comes down as me being the catalyst. I stand here before them and I have no clue how to save myself and them. I feel utterly worthless.

As Effie Trinket asks for a round of applause I once again find myself filled with wonderment for not a single soul claps. I can feel my back stiffen and my posture straightens. I'm tempted to smile at my district silent defiance. It is the boldest thing they ever done towards the Capitol and I will always love them for it.

What follows next is a clear shock for the committee, even Haymitch sits up and pays attention. It starts with a single miner raising his left hand towards his face and kissing his three middle fingers, then he holds it out to me. It's our way to send people we love and respect of at a funeral. Fitting for the occasion and soon the entire district has followed. I allow one tear to fall at this and kisses my own finger in a salute to them; I finally have a way to tell them all "Sorry" and "Goodbye"... A closure.

I'm almost dizzy from the liberation that washes over me.

At the peak Haymitch ruins it. He staggers across the stage and throws his arms around me. He drags me before the podium and shout out to the world as I struggle to be freed;

"Look at her. Look at this one! I like her!" I have forgotten how strong Haymitch is, and how bad he smells. "Lots of . . . spunk." He slurs as he kisses my cheek before pointing a long and dirty finger towards the camera. The edge is taken off when he falls of the stage, luckily without me and knocks himself unconscious. I try not to care and use the commotion to compose myself.

Effie is quick to move on before something else can happen and the next part of the reaping starts. It is time for the boys.

"What an exciting day!" she trills as handlers carries Haymitch's body to the train. Taking place behind the podium once again. I move silently to the left side, standing on the small X marked on the ground.

"But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Without pause she hurries to the boys ball and plums her hand down and fish up a piece of paper. I find Peeta in the crowd before me. He looks so pale and small where he stands surrounded by his age group. He has no clue what hell Effie is about to heap on him. Effie has already open the note as she returns to the podium and happily reads the name out loud to her public.

"Peeta Mellark."

…

As Effie Trinket says his name our past flash before my eyes; The pain, joy and love we shared. I don't want this for him, not even if it will let me be with him again. He deserves better. For a second I foolishly hope that someone will volunteer, but no one does.

From this moment on we'll be united to the end. I stare at him as he makes his way toward the stage, almost getting lost amongst the other boys. His medium height and stocky build making him look short amongst the other dark-haired teens, slim and tall.

His like a dandelion growing amongst dirt and pavement. His ash-blond hair combed back, showing his sharp cheekbones and clenched jaw. He is stressed, struggling to maintain his cool. Peeta told me once that he had been terrified by the prospect of fighting me, that the mere thought made him cold inside. He had loved me to much to want to hurt me, even at the tender age of fifteen.

He climbs the stair and I can feel my chest contracting as I look at him, you can see his anguish but his family remains silent. He stands before us alone and domed. Even though I hate it this is standard. Family devotion only goes so far for most people on reaping day. What I did was the radical thing, a thing that will be remembered as people walk home today and sit before their meager dinner.

Peeta on the other hand… Peeta would alone be forgotten, falling between the cracks already as silence reign. I realize why he struggled so hard to make Haymitch take an interest in us, apart we have no chance of sponsors. Together.. we would be unstoppable. His intelligence of the game-structure amazes me. As Peeta is introduce I try my hardest not to break under the realization. All of this is so much harder than I ever imagine. I thought since I already done it once that I would be able to handle it, but I feel completely lost. I can't even turn to Peeta for comfort since at this moment in time we are not even friends.

Our longest interaction to his knowledge is when he threw me the bread that saved me; the moment that gave me hope, courage and strength to live a little longer. A debt that I still have failed to repay.

I owe him so much. Even though my Peeta would disagree with me there, but then he always was to kind and forgiving. I can't think about that at a time like this, when so much is happening and every step I take will be watched and everything I say will be judged. My only comfort is that any weird behavior on my part is likely to be associated with stress. After all I am hardly the first one to break under pressure.

The reaping has reached it's end. It is time for I and Peeta to make the customary hand shake for good luck and retreat behind closed doors. I have to force my hand not to shake as I turn to him and reach out. His hand is warm and strangely gives me enough comfort to turn around and wave goodbye before leaving the stage. The anthem of Panem plays as the doors closes behind us, we are now in the justice-building and in the Capitols grip.

As the final tune of the anthem seeps through the thick doors I see Peeta talk to the mayor, he has the man smiling and I almost snort. Peeta is young and still he's a natural politician. He could disarm a nuke if you gave him enough time. I should now, he managed to slip by my defences easily and I didn't give in peacefully.

Chapter 11

The moment the camera goes dark we're taken into custody. A group of Peacekeepers marches us into separate rooms. There we will be allowed to say goodbye to our families in peace. It will be an agonizing hour that I much rather avoid. I don't know if I can say goodbye to Prim without breaking down in tears, but I have to for I can't appear weak to the public. My cold facade is all I have going for me as I don't have Peeta's way with people.

Haymitch ones told me that tears would have giving me more sympathies; that being perceived weak and emotional ment sponsors. In that I have to disagree with him. My cold appearance was what gave me the power to pull through and gain attention the first time. It had the benefit of blending well with Peeta's warm and friendly exterior.

The moment the door opens Prim hurries over to me and hugs me tightly, making me focus only on her. We stand before a barred window, in cold daylight, trying to comfort each other. We don't have a lot of time and I have little time to be practical. I could die in the arena; there is nothing saying that everything will go the same this time around. Already several small events has gone different and who know how that changes things.

I force Prim to let go and sit down on the brown sofa in the middle of the room. She sits next to me on my right and mother on my left. I tell her everything I can think of and then some; how to pick berries, roots, nuts and seeds all around the town. I also tell Prim about the sap and how to collect it. I make her promise me to keep silent, even if a child is starving. She gives me her word but I know she will break it.

I force Prim to promise me to accompany Gale in the forest, even if it scares her for she must be able to gather food. Gale will soon start working in the mines and he won't be able to support both families in the long run. I will be damned before I allow her to take a tesserae. Without me there they have a chance of making it with the little we have, at least for this year. Prims has read father's book as much as I, she only hasn't been able to stand the woods.

When I am done with instructing Prim, I turn to my mother. I grip her arms hard and I look her in the eyes. My part in keeping Prim alive starts here and I need her to do her part. She is alarmed by the look I give her. I am not an innocent child right now, I am the _girl on fire_ and she will adhere to me.

"Listen to me." I demand with a dark voice. "You can't leave again," I say with a dark intensity, a world of anger simmering behind my words. She break eye contact at this, ashamed, but I don't have time to be kind. I ignore her stutters and reassurance and grip her harder. She moans in pain.

"You can't leave Prim on her own. If it gets to hard… if I die… Whatever you see on the screen you have to promise me you'll fight through it!" My voice has risen into an angry hish. I am scared, she managed the first time but I can't rely on it. Everything can change as the kanoon rings. I almost died in the first few minutes once and I need her to be present for Prim if I succumb this time around.

Mom breaks my hold on her and says she will make it, that she has medicine now, but I can't rely on that; not with Prim on the line. Prim break us up before the argument get more heated. She holds my hand in hers and presses them to her chest; I can feel how hard her heart's beating.

"I'll be alright, Katniss," says Prim. "I only need you to fight. Try to win and come home to us again. We will make it, but you must promise me that you will fight."

The chance of me triumphing once again are slim, there so many mistakes I can do. I might know the other tributes and what they can do, but that is no guarantee for victory. My safest bet is to do what I once did; move out of the playing field and wait for the numbers to go down. It is my safest bet even if it is a horrid one.

We continue talking and try to move beyond the darkest of the moment. I hold Prim close to me and grasp one of my moms hands. We are a family even if we're a broken one and this might be our last few moment tighter.

I hope not, but I have to be honest to myself about my chances.

The peacekeeper soon come to take them away and before Prim goes she begs me to really try to survive; that she wants her sister to come home. I promise to try my hardest, but as Prim leaves I think about small little Rue; only twelve years old and stuck in the Game together with twenty-three others who wants her dead.

Prim is right,_ it is not fair_. What should I do?

The rest of the visit goes the same as before; first the baker enters. A silent and stoic old man, but once again he promise to look out for Prim and I give him a smile in thanks. Then Madge; grimly she tells me the same words as the first time and gives me a golden pin. I'm surprised by my apprehension for the small mockingjay, but I take it from her and reluctantly give her a weak promise to wear it later. When Madge leaves I look at the pin, wondering how something so small can become such a powerful symbol.

I still get a sick pleasure from the fact that the mockingjays are the results from the Capitols mistake. They had been so proud of their Jabberjay; the mutbird that could record people's conversations and used for espionage. When discovered they became useless to the Capitol and thus discarded, leading them to roam the wild and mate with the commun mockingbirds. Creating a new species that they couldn't control – the Mockingjay.

I would wear it gladly if it didn't represent so much personal grief, just to defy Snow.

After Madge its Gale's turn, the moment he enters he sweeps me up in a hug. I find myself unwilling to let go of him. Our goodbye to one another is harder than I would have thought. The only thing I want is to hide in his arms and be safe, my anger and bitterness gone. Hard to leave a friend behind in a world that is so grim.

He will be alone now and Gale deserves more than this. For the first time I truly understand how much he brought the war effort, to me. How much he sacrificed for the cause. Without him we would have stumbled in the darkness. His betrayal still hurts, but I can finally see beyond that and let Gale in again. I have missed him.

Before Gale must leave he implores me to use my skills to survive.

"Listen," he whisper into my ear. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."

I don't argue, only saying that I will try before he leaves. No one comes after Gale and I wait the remaining time alone, try to bring forth a courage I don't possess. I think about Peeta and how alone he must be in the other room. I hope his family could stay longer than mine, for even if his mother is a bitch he deserve a proper send off.

…

The peacekeepers collects us after some time and lead us from the Justice building. We travel the short distance to the train-station inside silver cars surrounded by guards. I sit next to Peeta and see traces of tears on his urge to comfort him is overwhelming, but I stop myself. Knowing that he wants people to see that his human side, trying to make people see us as more than toys. I think it worked since we both got out of the Game alive the first time around.

The station is swarming with reporters and cameras. I only have to pose for a few minutes whilst Peeta is out there longer. His red face becoming the focus point quickly and I can quite easily slip onboard the train. As soon as Peeta joins me the doors closes and the train starts moving. We are finally out of the camera's range and I can breath again.

Effie is their to show us our quarters. She happily leads the way and I take hold of Peeta's hand since he seems uncomfortable by the trains speed. As we walk Effie points out the different wagons, room-functions and layouts. The train is fancier than anything we have at twelve, even the rooms in the Justice Building.

After spending a year in the Seam I have grown unaccustomed with all the extravagance and feel overwhelmed. Finally Effie leads us to our rooms. I have forgotten the splendor the Capitol liked to show the tributes; each chamber has a main living-room with a bedroom-section that is decorated in green a white and a private bathroom with running water.

Effie insist that we both take a shower and find some decent clothes, complaining about our smell and dirty faces. I already miss my old hunter jacket. Effie leads Peeta away, leaving me alone to get ready. I peel off my mother's blue dress and jump into the shower. The hot water feel invigorating and I relax under the spray. Afterwards I find a simple green sweater and a pair of khaki pants, choosing to forgo socks. The fabric feels amazing on my skin, like cold rain at every touch.

Before I leave the room I take up the golden Pin from Madge, at the sight of it I get homesick. Its cold touch and golden glow reminding me of the Seam and Prim. It helps me decide and soon it once again decorates my chest. A piece of home close to my heart, both of them I realize as I walk down the corridor. Thinking about Pollux smile as I sang for the mockingbirds, combing my childrens golden hair and the many times my father sought them out for som peaceful music.

My father had been particularly fond of mockingjays since they had the ability to mimic tones and noises. When he'd sang in the forest they sang back and together they had created amazing music. I can still hear his voice as I close my mockingjay is like a piece of him, as it will be a piece of me.

I walk the narrow corridor towards the dining room with its polished paneled walls. Effie most likely there together with Peeta. As I enter I am hit by the smell of food. There's a table at the center, made out of green-tinted glass and overflowed with food. Peeta sitting close to the window, watching the seanery passe by. The chair next to him is empty so I take it.

"Oh Katniss! I was just coming to get you." Effie says brightly and comes over. "Now the only one missing is Haymitch." looking irritated towards the door opposite the one I entered.

I and Peeta sleep in compartments placed back in the trains while Haymitch and Effie has theirs in front. It's a clear declaration of the tributes place in the hierarchy.

"Last time I saw him, he said he was taking a nap," Peeta tells her. He looks tired as well and I think we better go to bed after we have eaten some. As we eat Effie informs us of the schedule to come, what we should do when arriving at the Capitol and what we shouldn't. The chefs made different type of courses and we can pick and choose what we like as we digest everything.

We chose the thick carrot soup with a green salad at the side. I can see that Peeta is starved, he can barely hold back, but manages it. I eat as much soup as I can get down, it will be kinder to my empty stomach then the other dishes. Peeta on the other hand slows down when the lamb chops and mashed potatoes are placed on the table. To spare his stomach from the heavy food I stop him as he pushes the soup away.

"No." He looks up at me. "I know that you are hungry, so am I, but if you eat all the heavy food you will be sick later. Our stomachs' not used to this and we can't risk being seen as weak."

He knows I'm right, but it is hard for him to stop himself. I can understand it. I too want to eat all the food. The table is overstuffed with delicious dishes and I want to try them all, but we manage to contain ourselves and eat in a companionable silence. Taking every bite of the soup and salad with care, gaining a complement from Effie for our manners.

"The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion." Effie complains as she nibbles on a small salad.

I love Effie, but I hate her attitude and high maintenance. Her words angers me and Peeta has to grab my leg with his right hand to stop me from objecting. The poor tributes from last year had probably lived through a period of starvation, all the food must have been a wonder to them.

To annoy her I pretend to sneeze after taking another mouthful of soup, spewing it over the table and hitting her hand. Instead of giving me a napkin Peeta take the tablecloth and helps me wipe the soup from my face. I watch in satisfaction as Effie moves to the small bar to wash her hand, clearly disgusted by us. And all I had to pay for my insolence was a burning feeling in my nose that would disappear shortly.

As we are done she reluctantly leads us to the cinema room, clearly not pleased with our manners anymore. Soon we are watching the twelve reapings on the screen while Effie sit as far away from us as possible. The clips holds no surprise for me, it follows as it once had and I recognize all of my competition.

First Marvel and Glimmer appear on the screen, I hardly pay them any attention, dreading more the two that will come after. Clover comes first, mean and cruel she shouts her joy to the crowed; filling me with dread. Seeing Cato join her leaves me empty, he had come close several time to kill me and I almost shut down when he smirks for the camera. He is as big and brutal as I remember and I find myself trembling as I study him.

I don't react to the other tributes that follows, that is until _she _enters. When Rue is shown on the screen I almost cry, drilling my finger into Peeta's arm to stop myself. He grimaces, but makes no stands on the stage, mere twelve years old and no one volunteers. You can hear the wind whistling through the decrepit buildings around her.

Last on the screen is us, Peeta and I. They show the whole thing. From Prim's name being called, to us entering the train. I look meek standing in the crowd pale and silent as my sister walks to her doom, but like a match has been struck I change into a living spitfire; rescuing my sister. I look dangerous and that's not good, president Snow will not like my fire, not one bit. I have to tone that down in the time to come.

Afterwards Peeta and I sit in our chairs and look blankly at the white screen. It feels surreal for both of us, how with music and background-talk they managed to make everything into a show. Effie complains how bad Haymitch makes her look as I sit there mute, but I can see Peeta trying to hold in a desperate laughter. His thinking what I'm thinking; we are utterly screwed.

Haymitch, the drunkard, were our lifeline and mentor. Without him we had no chance of making it one day in the arena. Effie was just the front and the pretty face, Haymitch was the true snake in the grass that would be our chance. And he has completely given up on the tributes up until now. It was clear as day to me as I had watched the scene. There had been nothing in his eyes, no fire or glimmer of hope. This must have been what Peeta saw the first time around, and what made him desperate for Haymitch attention. I need to help him, for both our sake.

...

We return to the restaurant and sit down by the table once again, Peeta and I are nibbling at some salty crackers as we let the time pass. A bit later Haymitch stagger in and makes a ruckus. As Effie goes to scold him he pukes on her shoes. I almost smile in approval but stops when he direct his empty gaze towards us and promptly tell us to kiss our hide's goodbye for we are going to die.

I remember why we have such a hard time getting along now, even though we look at each other as family. Haymitch is a dick.

Peeta runs after Haymitch as he turns to leave, I let him waste his time on it. I have had enough for one evening and I can see the fruitlessness in the endeavor. Ignoring Effie, which I had done all day long, I make my way to my room and get ready for bed.

The mattress is soft and cool, the fabric of the bed-spread hugging me softly as I get comfortable. Within moments I asleep, choosing to ignore the hardship of the day passed. The smell of the baker's cookies are the last thing I register as darkness swallows me.

_dream-sequence_

_I am walking in the forest. Everything is bright around me. I find my way over to the pond. The one where my father taught me how to swim and fish for bass._

_I am happy, it is as if my father was here with me. No worries in the world._

_I dive into the pond. Let it cold water surround me. It is good._

_As I surface I notice the petals on the water and I look around._

_All around me are tall plants with leaves like arrowheads. They remind me of something._

_I'm starting to get a bad feeling. The forest has gone to quiet and the dark._

_I swim towards the shore but it moves away from me._

_I feel weak and hungry. I feel tired and sick. I feel like I am dying._

_I then hear my father's voice._

"_Katniss." His voice echoes. "As long as you find yourself you will never starve."_

_One white petal touches me. I recognize it. It is a petal from a Katniss plant._

_I quickly swim over to the plants that is around me, they do not move._

_The hunger inside me is growing but I move forward unflinching._

_I have a purpose._

_I dive under and dig into the mud. I soon have a handful of roots in my hand and I pull._

_I will have food for tonight. The bluish tubers will be as good as potatoes in a stew._

_My mouth is salivating._

_I laugh._

_But as I turn around with my price a dark shadow looms over me._

_I look up._

_It's Cato, ready to take my life._

_I scream._

_dream-sequence over_

I wake up screaming in a dark room. I don't recognize it and I panic. I throw myself of the bed and tear through the room, bumping into things and walls. Trying to find a safe place. Suddenly the door opens and a soft bluish light fills up the room. Someone is standing before it but it's too big to be Prim. I'm ready to attack the intruder, but stop when I hear his voice.

"Katniss are you alright?"

It is Peeta and before I can think I have crossed the room, thrown myself into his arms and are crying buckets and shouting that I'm lost. He lifts me up in his arms and holds me close. He brings me back to the bed and get us on it. Soon he and the bed surround me and I feel safe. He keeps mumbling soft nothings and after some time I have calmed down enough to realize where I am and what is going on. I am beet red from embarrassment and want nothing more than hide. But I have never been a coward and Peeta has just helped me calm down from a panic attack.

"Thank you." I say.

"A nightmare?" he asks and I only nod into his chest. He doesn't let go and neither do I. It feels good to be in Peeta's arms again. We sit like this for maybe an hour before he starts moving, just a little but I notice. I get up a bit and look into his face. He has tired circles under his eyes and I can see that his position is uncomfortable.

"Will you stay." I ask him. He nods in reply. It is almost cute how nervous that question made him. I scoot away a bit and he make himself more comfortable. We soon lay next to each other, as close as we can get without touching. But I can't sleep and neither can he it seems. I am struck by an idea and I soon the room is filled by my soft humming and almost singing. It's a tone my father once used and I always remember falling asleep to it. Peeta is at first surprise, but as I continue he slowly relaxes and eventually fall asleep.

He looks so peaceful next to me and I scoot the rest of the way and lay my head on his chest. I soon fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart.


	7. Chapter 12 & 13

**Chapter 12**

The original work belongs to Suzanne Collins and her publishers or any other co-owner. I'm merely borrowing her epic work to make my own spin; the idea of a time-travel simply refusing to leave me alone, so I had to write it.

_I'm making no profits from this and the story isn't that good, if you haven't read Collins magnificent work I suggest you do. My messy fanfic is but a gnat in her shadow. __If anyone is offended I'm very sorry._

...

Early daylight is leaking through the curtains, blinding me as I wake groggy and confused. Strong arms is wrapped around my waist, bringing back the memory of Peeta comforting me after my nightmare.

I lift my head from the satin pillow and take in our position. We are wrapped around one another, like two snakes twined together, his head is nestle in the crock of my neck and upper chest. It feels like coming home and I soon find myself snuggling down and falling asleep again.

Next time I wake it's from Peeta moving around. I tighten my grip on him and he shuckles quietly.

"I need to use the bathroom. Let go." He mumbled, his voice sleepy and hoarse from sleep.

"Hold it, just five more minutes." I reply grumply and scoot closer. Irritated by his movements.

"Can't. Come on, let go cattail." He says lightly and pulls on my braid. I loose my grip on him in shock, surprised by the nickname, it's one never used before. I almost like it. As Peeta crawls out of the bed I open my tired eyes, trying to get used to the shallow light in the room. I lay there for several moment, refusing to move, but without Peetsa the bed's too cold and I get up after he's locked the bathroom-door.

I decide to air out the room, it feels to stale and thick for my taste. I walk over to the side wall, push away the curtains and crack open one of the small oval windows. Not too much, since the air-pressure from the trains speed can suck me out and squash me like a bug.

The wind that hits my face is hard, cold and refreshing. I stand before the small opening and let it sweep over me, enjoying the energy it gives; like a roaring storm caressing my body, untamed and wild. For a few seconds I'm swept away from it all and lose myself in the moment.

"I'm done." Peeta says, awkwardly standing in the doorway to the bedroom. His words brings me crashing back into reality. He's just stands there, looking at me and I wonder how long he has been there. "I probably should head over to my room before Effie comes. Uh… is that ok?" he asks. It's clear he feels like an intruder now, in the daylight, with no darkness for protection.

I nod, feeling exposed and raw as he stares at me. I find myself wanting him to leave. He starts walking to the exit after seeing the answer in my eyes, but with his back turned to me the feeling of abandonment hits me hard.

"Peeta!" He turns around. "Thank you." I say, my voice gruff from the diffrent emotions trying to come out at once. The two words having more meaning behind them than he will ever know.

He smiles back at me and it feels like a sunrise, I almost want to touch it to see if I get burned. But I won't, I can't. My hands are shaking, I can't make them stop. I'm losing control and I don't know why.

"Thanks yourself. I actually got a few hours' sleep this way."

"Yeah. I know what you mean." I say as the world flimmer before my eyes.

He leaves and as the door close behind him I fall onto the bed, landing wrong and ending up in a heap on the floor. I feel an overload of emotion bombarding me as I lay on the mint-green rug, unable to think or move. I'm sweating heavily as my body's shaking.

I'm having an anxiety attack of sorts and the realization scares me shitless. I can only lay there and feel utterly helpless while my mind and body tries to deal. When I've got control over my body again I use what little strength I have to get off the floor.

For a long time I just sit on the bed and stare into space, trying to gather more strength for the day to come. Much later I use the bathroom to get ready for the day and when I finally step out of the shower I almost feel human again. My body is tired but relaxed and I can think normally once again.

As I'm about to get dressed Effie's voice pierce the silence around me. I go on edge immediately as Effie storms into the room and starts shouting at me in an excited voice, calling for me to rise. "Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!"

As Effie starts going over what I'm to wear for the day I wonder how she can stand being so cheerful. I can barely tolerate her as she starts throwing different outfits on the bed and happily shattering about the many messages she has received since the reaping. All her friends are apparently jealous that she's gotten such cute kids this year.

Her words sickens me to the core and I'm desperate for her to leave; afraid of another anxiety attack do to the stress I feel. I soon use Peeta as an escape, indicating that he got no dress-sense and could use her expertise, before he went to Haymitch. She's out the door in seconds.

The moment she's gone I look to the many different costumes she has thrown on my bed. I try to remember as I sort through them that she's just being Effie; a colorful tornado that is my friend, and not an enemy out to destroy me. It's several minutes before I have composed myself enough to get dressed in one of the less extravagant pieces on the bed.

I chose a long-sleeved shirt in white with a loose short-sleeved dress in yellow cotton-dress to go with, completing the outfit with soft-grey leggings: going for a childish look instead of Effie's more exotic taste. Mostly since I want Snow and others to see me as an innocent child and not a threat. Snow won't let me live long if I can't soften the image already implanted in people.

I forgo shoes and socks again and go barefoot to the dining room. The pin firmly attached to the dress, shining dully as the red-white light in the hallway hits it. My mother braid still holds strong even if it is a bit looser today than yesterday so I chose to let it be, it brings me a small comfort having something of home.

I wonder what Prim is doing just know? Without me there she is probably already at school and studying hard. She loves school. I've never understood the appeal of it, it just a bunch of brainless nonsense and capitol propaganda.

My father used to say that it was more to school than just doing as the teacher wanted and said, but that the capitol didn't want smart worker since they were harder to control. That's why I loved my lessons with him, he let me experience learning as it should be; trial and error, with a touch of play. I would have much rather been at home with him, learning real knowledge.

But Capitol-school is mandatory until you are seventeen, after that you have one year to find other employment or be forced down into the mines. The bottomless mines that have been in use for hundreds of years. If I had managed to get out of volunteering I'd planned to ask Grease-Sae for a job and gone from there. I could do a mean stew and have, surprisingly enough, green thumbs.

I enter the dining room and find that the rest of our group already there; Haymitch and Effie are arguing whilst Peeta is sipping a cup of hot soup. I sit down next to Peeta, pushing the thought of home and Prim aside to focus on the now. Our handlers sits opposite of us, Effie is a bit frazzled but Haymitch looks better today although still drunk. Peeta must have manage to impress him if he is somewhat sober.

The argument between our handlers seem to be how to best present us upon entering the Capitol. Effie wants something big and flashy, whilst Haymitch wants more subtle. Saying it's better that we are hidden until our stylists get to us. I let them argue, too indifferent to get involved.

The table is once again filled with cuisines and soon my plate is filled with food. I start with some light bread with butter. My stomach growl from hunger and urge to stuff my face in all the dishes is strong, but I only take a small bite of my bread and chew slowly. Peeta put a mug of chocolate in front of me and I thank him.

I've loved chocolate from the first taste and I take my time draining the cup. That hot, sweet, creamy liquid feels like a blessing and I sink into the chair as I drink it. I must look like a bag of rice, but I'm too content to care.

Haymitch pretends to ignores us expertly but I know he studies us from the corner of his eye. He wants to see if we are worth effort keeping alive. There's a lot that he has to sacrifice in order to get us sponsor. Finnick's voice echoes in my head;

"_We were sold for the amusement of others."_

I decide to just plow right into it as I drain the last of my chocolate.

"What advice will you give us then?" I say to him. You can't be warm and soft with Haymitch. It will gain you shit.

"Stay alive." Is his dry reply.

"Thanks, will try. Anything else smart-ass." I drawl back.

Peeta is stiff beside me, not liking the nonchalance. It is his life on the line and he wants more than this clown-persona to deal with. I want to tell him to relax, but think better of it. Peeta is quite scary when he loses his temper and we need to impress the man. I bring my hand to my neck as I remember his choke-hold.

"That's very funny," says Peeta stiffly. Faster than I can follow he then lashes out at the glass in Haymitch's left hand. It shatters on the floor, painting it in red-gold liquid. "Only not so much for us."

I'm quick enough to see Haymitch start clenching his fist. I react instantly and drive the knife by my right hand into the table only a breath away from his long and ring finger. My quick action stops him in mid swing, leaving Peeta unhurt.

"Lay one finger on either of us and I will slit your throat. Mentor or no mentor." I say in a deadly voice as I let go of the knife handle. I slowly sit back into my chair, refusing to break eye contact with him. From the corner of my eye I see Peeta's right hand moving towards the fork next to him as the staring contest goes on.

Then Haymitch blinks a couple of times, moving his gaze from us to the knife and back again. He eventually leans back into his chair and takes us in properly. He then start laughing and he doesn't stop, but neither of us relaxes. You don't turn your back on a tiger. No matter how housebroken.

Haymitch sees this and he smirks back at us.

"Well, well." He drawls dryly and crosses his arms. "I seem to have actually gained a couple of fighters this year."

Effie ruins the moment by exclaiming over the table, our manners and everything else she can find a fault in. Her high pitch voice, with the silly emphasis on the _s_, breaks the tension and both Peeta and I finally relax. I still don't let my eyes wander away from Haymitch, He may be superior to me, but I'm not ready to admit defeat just yet. The smirk he gives me tells me he knows my thoughts, but that he will make me obey him soon enough.

No matter how much I hate it I know he's right. I will obey, because he know the rules of the Game in a way I never learned. I'm gonna need him in the lead, even if it is hard to trust him as he is now. He might disappear in a drunken stupor if you don't watch him… and I say that will utmost love.

...

After the knife incident Haymitch start questioning us, it is the same thing as last time: how good are you? Love interest? Smart? Strong? He takes his time studying us, pointing out our strong and our weak points: Peetas body build and sharp edges, both shortness. My pretty face and slimming body-lines, but obvious gauntness.

He says that we have potential, Peeta more than I, but both need a good scrub. He snarkily asks me if I know what a smile means whilst pointing on Peeta and demanding a sunny-kiss-smile. I stomp Peeta on the foot for that one when he happily comply.

Haymitch quickly realize that I am the survivalist and Peeta the socialist. At first he thought that my instinct for survival would help me in the Game, but since going over the recording from the reaping Haymitch says that I've no real social skill. I know how to _act _socially, that he gives me. But the moment no one's looking I become a dead fish, his words...** Not mine. **That will never work in the Capitol, with the elite. They will see through me in seconds he informs me, they are trained to.

I hate to give him right, but... the people my future was a war-torn race with mental scars. A fact that had made it possible for me to blend in so well with the mass. In a social party from my world I would have no problem. But here, with these strangers, I was the odd fish out.

When he's finally done he circles us one last time, commenting as he goes before he passes final judgement. I had no idea that Haymitch could be a drama queen, you learn something new every day.

"Listen up cupcakes. I am willing to make a deal with you" he says after clapping his hand together in front of my face. We shoot one another dark glares. It is true love I'm sure, it is the beginning of a horrid friendship. "You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you," Haymitch goes on. Making a point of pouring up a glass of booze in front of us. "But you have to do exactly what I say."

I clench my jaw. I never was good at obeying him, even if his advices were sound, not without arguing first. Peeta once told me that he and Johanna took bets who would win when we really got started. Of course he betted on me. They both lost money over the years.

In my anger and bitterness I am happy that we managed to once again spark Haymitch interest. Without him we would be dead and forgotten seconds after the bell ring. Cinna, Effie and the others has their part, sure, but Haymitch is the one that will keep our sponsors interested.

"Agreed," says Peeta. I only nod.

"When we arrive at the capitol do everything your stylist tells you, no matter how odd. They are your only bet at getting noticed." Haymitch explains. "You have got to give us something to work with so go with it and remember, flirt with the crowd, they are your strongest asset."

With those words he disappears off to his room, with two bottles of booze. He will be drunk within an hour, leaving us on our own for the remaining time. Both Peeta and I spend most of it at the dinner table, nibbling at the food. We hardly speak during that time and it's a good silence. A piece of tranquility in the trials to come; keeping despair at bay.

Then light begins to fade; the former named Rocky Mountains shadow covering us like a blanket. The only mountain-chain big enough to give shelter to the people surviving the dark days; its natural barrier protecting against weather, poisonous gas and radiation. Soon we will enter into the tunnel leading to the capitol, the only way in from the east-side. The mountain wall being too steep and treacherous to climb or fly over.

I turn to Peeta.

"We will arrive soon." He nods. I get up and walk to the window. It will take some time but I know what will be at the end. He gets up and follows me. We stand close but yet apart as we see the train slowly being eaten by a black hole.

I have a sudden urge to tell him everything, warn him of the hardships to come, but I can't. It would be to much to burden him with. But just as the tunnel devour us I can't hold my tongue. The need to say something is too much. I step closer to him and put my hands on his crossed arms.

My height isn't that different from his, he only have half a head on me so I look into his eyes. Just as I'm about to speak the truth I see something glimmer behind him; a camera. The Capitol.

I can't tell him, they will learn and kill us. Instead I get as close as I dare and with a whisper of a breath I say; "Divided we fall, together we stand tall."

I then withdraw a bit and look out into the darkness of the tunnel, not knowing if he heard me. It's an old saying that my father once told me, words given to him from a friend chosen for the games. He had said those words moment before being slaughtered.

Peeta says nothing and I can feel the train slowing down even more, we will arrive within the hour. We remain in front of the window and close to each other the whole way. I can feel his curiosity at the prospect of seeing the capitol for the first time, I on the other hand dread it.

When we are out of the tunnel Peeta gets his fill; the Capitol lays before us in all her glory. The colorful buildings in its odd shapes and forms towering the south part of the valley. Clear water cascading down a waterfall to the west and artistic gardens and forests as far as the eye can see to the north. It looks like a treasure chest, everything appearing valuable and outwardly; blinding onlookers with its splendor. She is as magnificent as she is poisonous. As we look I shiver at the sight. Knowing what evils hides behinds the front, just waiting to kill me.

The train is moving so slow by now that we actually see the people that stare at us and pointing their finger towards the train. I see several persons completely covered in color, even their skin is painted in different shades. Others has hair so big that they themselves look small and it goes on. Their appearance is odd to me; after the war this lifestyle was banned and mostly grey or black was the only colored allowed in the city. I had forgotten the muchness of the capitol, seeing just one or two during the year that been not preparing me for the full onslaught. One woman is dressed in a lobster-dress, driving a lobster-car and has a lobster… well you get the idea. It's giving me a headache. After so many years of dead colors all the brightness is a bit much.

The fact that they all are pointing and shouting at the train doesn't help. We are celebrities and everyone wants to welcome us. I have to swallow hard to stop a scream from breaking out. Instead forcing myself to smile and stay by the window, letting the cameras see me. I try to appear young and innocent, looking away and acting overwhelmed. It's harder than I thought.

Peeta is as active as ever, smiling big and waving his hand effortlessly. He flirts with the camera and tries to capture as many eyes as possible. He wants to be recognized. Standing so close together seems to excite everyone even more and the cameras goes off like mad.

"Someone is born to handle nutcases I see" I say through clenched teeth. Trying to not move a muscle. Peeta turn to me and his eyes filled with laughter as he looks at me. It's so fake that I almost slap him.

"And someone is born to flee from them." He throws back at me. I huff at this and lightly smack his arm, making him start laughing an even faker laugh. It is the last thing anyone sees before we disappear out of sight.

The moment we are in the clear our smile drops and Peeta becomes more closed off and stiff.

"... one of the nutcases might be rich." He says in a quiet depressed voice as the train comes to a stop at the train station.

"Ah! Well… it is good that you have a plan at least. One question though:" I say. Putting my nose in the air. "How do you plan on finding the rich once? They all look the same."

He leers back at me and pulls gently on my braid.

"Easy. I just spot who's crazy enough to approach you and go from there Cattail." At this I break down and start laughing hysterically. He soon follows me and we don't seems to be able to stop, but I'm glad that despise the odds against us and the fact we are supposed to kill each other we can still find comfort in on another.

In any situation.

My Partner in crime.

Chapter 13

I have forgotten how painful a makeover could be. I want to stop everything and calmly ask this people if they are stylists or torturers. Venia, sweat Venia is right now ripping every strand of hair from my body with the most horrid tool imaginable: the wax-paper. She is apologizing for every rip, but I can tell it's insincere. She takes pleasure from this. The only thing making me bare it is her ridiculous appearance. Blue hair, golden tattoos and flower-like eyelashes doesn't match her face-shape. _*An eye for an eye.*_

But while Venia only stripping me of my skin Octavia is happily tearing my calm apart. Always the rude one in the bunch, a plump woman in her early twenties, Octavia loves to speak her mind. Currently she is trying to fix my broken nails and make my hands look less worn and callus. Whilst doing so she's commenting how dreadful I look and how fast I will die. She's a real charmer that one. But I wonder how a woman whose entire body has been dyed a pale shade of pea-green can speak about looks. Even her eyes have the color of green in them.

Flavius is the least scary of them. He's such a softy that I'm scared of breaking him. He looks like a cupcake, his light dark skin clashes horribly with his orange corkscrew locks and purple lipstick. But he is quick with his hands and can do miracles with any hair: no matter how much he pulls out with that hairbrush.

The worst torture though is their accents. I would take starvation right now if it would stop the horrid squeaky and silly Capitol dialect. Ugh! These people can't talk. Their jaws barely open when they speak and form their sentences like question. I have had to put up with the accent for the past three hours as they prattle over my head and trying to make me pretty.

I've been scrubbed, pinched, combed, waxed and tortured. I am ready to scream but I bare it. I will soon see Cinna and all this would be worth it… I hope. When I am finally deemed clean by Venia they leave me alone, stripped down to my bare skin in a cold room.

I'm thankful that my shyness died a brutal death during my pregnancies. I'm almost comfortable standing here, naked.

I'm anxious of Cinna's arrival. Touching my braid as I wait. Flavius has copied my mother hairstyle, but giving it a touch of the city and made it glisten. It's not that horrible, but I miss my mother's simpler touch. My entire headaches from the treatment Flavius gave it.

I don't have to wait long. Cinna soon enters the door and I have to stop myself from running to him, overjoyed that he is here, alive. I remain silent as he circles me and studies my body. Studying him in return.

I always liked how normal Cinna appeared in looks, he never strived for the over the top fashion. He instead always found the style that fits the person, it is how he made me so beautiful. The only thing he ever did that could be considered over the top were the use of the gold eyeliner, the rest was almost down right subtle.

"Hello Katniss, I am Cinna and I will be taking care of you." He says. I only nod in reply, my tongue feels heavy and swollen. Only managing a small greeting after swallowing a couple of times. After that we make light enquires to one and other and I try to not let it show how much I've missed him.

Within minutes I get the feeling that Cinna is aware of the trust I have in him for he gets warmer in his way of interacting with me. I even think he's forgotten that I'm naked. We are soon behaving like old friends towards each other and the thought warms my heart, even if I'm a bit shilled.

I ask him if I can get dressed and Cinna gives me a grey robe, quick to make me comfortable. As soon as I'm dressed he takes me to a sitting room close by. It is decorated in soft white walls, covered with art, and deep red furnishing. It is tasteful and a bit too much at the same time. Cinna ask me to sit and then presents a light meal.

"Haymitch said that you eat lightly, to heavy food is not good for you?" Cinna inquires. "I hope that some chicken and light salad will be alright?"

"It is fine." I answer. "It's not that I don't want to eat heavy food, but my stomach is not yet used to it."

He nods at this and we begin eating our lunch. I'm so focused on the food that I miss him looking at me at first. Mostly because it's hard to look at him, he died right in front of me. Beaten to death because of a dress, the thought make me want to stop eating, but I don't. I need all the fat I can build before the game starts.

"I thought there would be more anger in you, but instead I find a tired women." He tells me.

"I have fire, it just takes a lot to kindle it." I answer in a soft tone. His words wounding me. I hadn't known that I was showing my true self; the wounded animal, but then again Cinna could always read me.

"I can believe that." He says. "But it's not entirely compatible with the costumes that I had created." I look nervous at him, I need that fire to stand out. What if he skip it?

"I think it would be better if I and Portia, being Peeta's stylist, work on a combined outfit for the pair of you that has a bit of umph to it." He continues. "You both seem to be somewhat companionable and we should use that, but give it an edge; luring the sponsors."

I nod mutely, purring as a kitten inside but refusing to show it. I had thought that it would be more of a struggle to get Cinna over to my way of thinking, but here he is. Handing it over on a silver plate.

"We dress you in similar clothes and with a trick of my own design I should make them see you." His voice is full of mischief and pride. Its hard to play unknowing since all I want is to smirk with him.

"Is it true that miners work in teams down in the dark?" He asks me out of the blue.

"Yes." I say with a stiff voice, trying to hold back the memories. Thinking of the mines darkness my mood. "You will get killed if you work on your own, it's hades."

Cinna gives a serious nod.

"You been there yourself?" Cinna inquires softly after seeing the pain in my eyes. I feel exposed since I know we're not alone, never fully.

"My father." I say. "He was a miner all his life, he met many that believed they could make it on their own. No one did." Remembering how much father valued teamwork, but I myself was never any good at it. It wasn't natural for me.

"I see… well to get back on track; miner work in teams and they fear fire right?" Cinna continues awkwardly.

"No." I answer with a firm voice. "Miners fear wildfire, but never fire. Fire is their friend." I begin saying, trying to find the right words. "Fire gives us warmth, food, hope and life. It tells us there is a tomorrow and a chance at something more."

"What do you mean?" Cinna ask looking thoughtful.

"Fire keeps the cold at bay, warms the food, tell us there's air. It is essential for miners to know there is life." My voice grows firmer as I speak. Knowing that my words are though. "However… wildfire burns everything, leaving nothing in its wake. A monster, not a savior."

Cinna nods, excited by my tail. I can take a guess as to why.

"Miner and fires go hand in hand, is that what you're telling me?"

"I'm telling you that a miner only live past his first year if he has learned to handle fire." I say. The atmosphere a bit dark. "That is why no child of twelve ever starts working the mines until after their seventeenth birthday. "

Cinna stares at me.

"So… no tribute from twelve, under the age of seventeen, has any knowledge about the thing that distinguish twelve from the other districts?" he ask in a shaky voice.

"None." I answer. "That is why we die so quick, we sit at a school bench for about ten years of our life."

"…And you are…" he asks with fear in his voice.

"I am sixteen."

"…"

I can see that Cinna has a hard time swallowing this. He has never work the games before, so he has no former knowledge than the capitals to go on. I almost feel sorry for him, he was already compassionate for our plight but this information must really hurt him.

"Don't let it trouble you." I say, sounding joyful. "Twelve has no problems with that structure. We enjoy the childhood the Capitol grants us and the work they provide." I lie, trying to take the edge of my words. Hoping that Snow isn't listening. I've let too much of myself show.

Cinna looks at me. I don't look away. Instead I smile at him and get up. I move over to the glass-panel that makes out the wall in the room. Looking over the Capitol and collecting myself.

"What will I and Peeta be dressed in?" I ask as I stand there overlooking the Capitol.

That brings Cinna back to basic and he starts talking passionately how different he wants to go this year. How he doesn't want to dress us in miner-outfit or in coal dust. Believing that none of the previous costumes were ever suited after the tributes, only the districts. Cinna thou will be changing that and I almost look forward to it. I will be beautiful.

"You see, Portia and I think that coal miner thing's very overdone, no one sees the tributes and we want to make you two unforgettable," says Cinna.

"Tell me Katniss, how afraid of fire are you?" He sees my expression and grins.

…

Cinna has dressed me the black bodysuit, I have forgotten how tight it was. I like the boots though, they reminds me of hunter boots, also black and goes up to my tights. My head is decorated in an elaborate headpiece that is interlaced with my braid, it's black-red and golden tones blending in well with my hair. Flaviu's refused to undo his already hard work, but agreed to tone down the gloss. The one thing I'm uncomfortable with is the cape Cinna holds up to me. It is hideous. Cinna must have seen my disgust for he quickly disregards it.

"I can forgo the cape, but it will be a bit trickier to make the show pup. I have to work on that." Cinna mumbles to himself. I wisely keep my mouth shut. In his hand he is holding the spray that will light us on fire. I can see how much attention Peeta keeps on the spray can and I understand him. I know it will not harm us, but I still am against lightning myself on fire; even for Cinna.

Peeta and I are standing on district twelves chariot, it's covered in coal-dust and pulled by two black-grey horses. I look like a mythological being and Peeta is my champion; He's dressed in a similar bodysuit as mine, with boots that goes up to his knees. But I think he would benefit more skin showing. He is almost covered completely.

Portia has brought out his beauty and power, but he doesn't stand out.

And speaking of Portia, se is right beside us and trying to calm Peeta down.

"It is fake Peeta." She says. ""You'll be perfectly safe," he says.

Peeta looks at her doubtful.

"Portia." I say and she looks at me with surprise. The other tributes and stylist never interact and I am doing something very odd right now.

"Y…yes Katniss." She asks.

"You made him beautiful but isn't there too little… I don't know… Peeta?" I ask in a soft almost shy voice. I don't want to anger her after all. She might refuse to continue working with Cinna if I do.

Cinna looks at up at me, shocked by my boldness. Portia is stunned to while Peeta is blushing lightly. Giving me a suspicious look while doing so, not buying the innocent girl act. Too clever for his own good.

"What do you mean dear?" Portia inquires.

"He completes me just fine." I say. "But I don't get much of Peeta through that costume." I continue. I bit more sure of myself this time. I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"What about taking of the overtop and smear his chest in gold like dust with a lot of coal?" I say. "And put him in a cape with arms? Tease the audience a little? "

Portia seems to be thinking it over. Cinna looks to his fellow stylist and they both withdrawn and are soon in a heated debate. Peeta just looks to me.

"What was that?" he asks.

"I don't know?! It just felt like you weren't done." I say back. Giving him an awkward side glance.

He just looks at me for a few seconds and then focuses on Portia. She and Cinna seems to have reached an agreement. They hurry back to us, their hand full of clothes.

"Peeta get down." Portia orders. He obeys. She starts tearing his overtop up and he helps her. Soon she has him bare chested, but instead of dust painting on him she forced him into a netlike body shirt made out of gold, it's that is almost invisible. Above this she smears black charcoal and dust, highlighting his muscles. On his right shoulder she then places a heavy black cloak that goes from his shoulder across his back and under his left arm, then she secures it with a black pin borsch.

He looks divine.

Portia finish up just as it's time to begin. Cinna and Portia empties the fire cans on our backs and hair. I am more nervous than I could imagine. I am silently praying for this to work, for the capitol to see both of us. Peeta deserves some help in the arena, he almost died the first time around.

Cinna and Portia hugs us goodbye.

"You will be like two phoenix's being reborn, so act like it." Cinna says to me dreamily. I give a stiff nod. "But don't be to royal, they must see the young women in you." He finish of.

That will be easy I think sarcastically. I haven't been a child for some time now.

"You will be the tributes of district twelve, the once on fire." Portia declares. How rights he is I think as I turn around and grip the side of the chariot. Peeta standing next to me. My hands are sweating and I resist the temptation to wipe them off on my clothes.

Opening ceremonies are about to start and before us stands eleven chariots, all filled with their tributes, awaiting their starting signal.

"If I'm caught on fire Katniss. Will you save me?" I hear Peeta say between closed lips.

"If you save me." I answer on instinct. "Think what image it will be. We, jumping around trying to extinguish each other's fire."

Peeta laughs.

"I can see Seneca Crane now…. Their smoking hot!" Peeta says in a capitol dialect. I look at him startled and then I'm laughing. I'm laughing so hard that Peeta has to hold me up. The other tributes are looking at me and I try to point at Peeta, to show them it's his doing.

"If I get badly burned I am going to force Haymitch into sobriety." Peeta continues when I finally managed to control my laughter. "Isn't he supposed to stop people from killing us?"

I start laughing again. Cursing him under my breath.

"Can…Can you imagine… He and Cinna… trying to…" I have a hard time getting out what I want to say. I have to pinch myself on the thigh hard to make myself focus.

"I mean. Can you imagine Haymitch arguing with Cinna and Portia… over clothes?" I snort at the thought. Not a chance. Peeta most agree with me for I manage to get a smile.

"Mmhm. You might be right. Besides. He might actually make the flames real, what with him carrying around so much alcohol in his body." Peeta says. I manage to just chuckle at that one.

He's the man. My man.


	8. Chapter 14, 15 & 16

The original work belongs to Suzanne Collins and her publishers or any other co-owner. I'm merely borrowing her epic work to make my own spin; the idea of a time-travel simply refusing to leave me alone, so I had to write it.

_I'm making no profits from this and the story isn't that good, if you haven't read Collins magnificent work I suggest you do. My messy fanfic is but a gnat in her shadow. __If anyone is offended I'm very sorry._

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**Chapter 14**

Time for conversation has past. Everyone's ready for the show to begin. We are given the signal when the national anthem starts playing. The massive doors starts opening and the first chariots begins to move.

A straight path made of white cobblestone, 74 meters wide and 2 kilometers long, lays before us. The public sits on giant lectors at the sides, happily shouting as the first wagon appears. I swallow as the noise almost deafens me, it seems like the whole population is attending by the sound of it

Soon we will be out there, trying to gain sponsors. The thought is daunting. Having to smile the whole time as we travel towards the end-circle where we will be greeted by President Snow. It will be the first time for over twenty years that I will lay my eyes on him again.

Fortunately it will be a while yet. We are twelve and many will go before us. The longer the better.

The concretion begins with district one; the luxury district, often portrayed as the doll of the districts and loved by the Capitol. Glimmer and Marvel are dressed in gem-stones, glitter and expensive feathers. Showing of the richness of their home. Their horses are pure white, but covered in diamonds.

After them is district two; the masonry and weapon district. I have never had any love for them, they live for combat. Clove and Cato are no exceptions. They look like bloodthirsty warriors as they shout out their battle-cries to the audience pleasure. Both dressed in leather-garb with golden plates around their shoulders and waist.

Then district three; district for technologically advances. They're dressed in black bodysuits with blue net-like-lines. Their faces is covered with a see-through-lens in blue glass that the public adores it. Followed by four, the fishing district, with its tributes dressed in nets, seaweed and blue cashmere.

When the careers has been greeted by the public it's time for the rest of us.

District five, six and seven is first to leave the hall. Five, being the power districts, has its tributes in atom-based suits and hats that sparkles. Six in space-travel-outfits since their district deals with transportation. Seven is dressed in elaborated origami-costumes that shows little of the tributes themselves. Making me think of Johanna's dislike for the stylist love of lumber and wood. I can almost hear her swearing at the chariot.

Next district eight, nine and ten joins the concretion. Eights tributes looks like jokesters; dressed in layers of layers of fabrics, showing the district different textiles. Nine are portrayed as grain, a clear reflection of their district. Ten's dressed like cowboys; I can sort of understand the point, their district being in charge of livestock and all.

Then it's time for the chariot in front of us, containing Thresh and Rue. I have been avoiding looking at them, but as we start moving my eyes lands on her. She is dressed in a soft green dress. Her hair done into an elaborated flower like pattern. She looks like a fruit-flower in bloom. Thresh complementing her somewhat as an apple-picker.

The difference in outfits worries me, not knowing what brought on the change. It almost brings on another panic-attack. I'm forced to accept that changes is happening and how unreliable my former knowledge is. The only thing that stops me from making a fool of myself is the chariots movements and the flashing cameras in my face. I'm too stubborn and pigheaded to give the onlookers the satisfaction.

To calm myself I think of Prim; home from school and looking at me. I gather courage from her being alive and thinking of me._*I can do this, for __**her**__… *_.

Just as we appear in the opening Cinna lights us on fire. We almost jump from the sudden flair behind us; Peeta's because the fire looks so real and I because of past memories. Fire burns after all. Like me - _**the girl on fire**_.

Every eye is upon us. First there are stunned silence, but soon the shouting starts. I look over the public and I feel my stomach tying itself into a knot. Nerves hits me hard. I feel like an innocent child put on display before strangers. People whom I will be responsible for killing; I can feel it in my bones, it's already begun. I can't stop it now.

I'm playing the game.

...

Peeta get into the charade immediately and starts waving at the crowd with a big smile, they go wild for him. I only manage to smile stiffly and nod politely. Unable to bring myself to be lovey-dovey with all this people cheering for my death.

Peeta turns to me after seeing my face on the banners; he can tell how hard it's for me and smiles softly before reaches out with his hand. I meet him halfway, having a firm grip on the chariot with one hand as I cling to his with the other. He lifts our hands into the sky, for the Capitol to see. The crowd goes wild. We stand united, for the whole Capitol to see.

Soon we can hear how the crowd are screaming "district twelve" and I can breathe easier. They have noticed us once again, we will get quit the followers. The women looks positively in love with Peeta. _*If they dare touch him I will shop of their hands_* I think as I try to look like a young women overwhelmed and meek. Probably not succeeding do to the rage inside me.

I can see us on the arena-screens; we are like two phoenixes reborn. Everyone can see **us**, despite the flames on our backs. We are the favorites for this night, but I know that it can easily change in an instant.

I hardly notice the crowd after a while. There is too much going on. I do manage to capture some of the roses thrown at us and Peeta has equal luck. All I can focus on is my hand in Peeta's and that soon I will meet President Snow once again.

I do refocus when Peeta squeezes my hand and I quickly look at him. His smile looks a bit strained, his eyes tired. The effort to look young and happy beginning to wear on him.

I step a bit closer to him and started waving more energetic and seeking out the people's eye. Trying to make it easier on Peeta, give him time to collect himself. Throwing out comments as we go, trying to take his mind of the audience.

I had hardly cared about him the first time we had made this journey. He must have felt so alone, abandoned and exposed as he stood here, beside me; without any allies or hope to survive the games. This time that was a bit different… I care this time and I will make damn sure that he knows that before we go inside the arena.

By the time we are at the City Circle my hand is almost blue from our hold, I can hear bones shifting but ignore it. We need the contact for what's coming next. The chariots fill the loop of the Circle and before us a silver citadel stands tall and firm. I get the chills as I see it.

When we come to a stop and the music ends President Snow appears on the podium. He's smaller than I remember, is my first thought. He'd been made into a symbol of oppression during the war, a giant tyrant to be destroyed. But now as I look at him I find myself more curious than afraid. This man has skillfully managed to build up, maintain and strengthen Panem for decades. Maybe on the bodies of children, but still a powerful person. I almost can respect him as he walks towards us.

Thankfully my hatred for the man stops me.

Snow is dressed in a white suit, richly decorated with white gold-tread. His paper-white hair is combed back, his skin pale and his blue eyes cold. He looks like an old garden snake in hibernation. But looks can be deceiving, he's very poisonous after all and quick to bite.

The President greets us warmly and speaks for a few minutes, more towards the audience than us. The cameras circle the chariots during this time, we being the clear favorites. Snow doesn't talk long and soon we anthem start up again. Signaling the end of the progression. Now it's off to the training-facilities for us.

A building specifically design for the tributes. Every district has its own floor, starting with one and up. I think there is a symbolic touch to the roof, level thirteen, which is an open area with a garden specifically grown by the Capitol. Nothing is natural. The place is like a bird-cage; design to please, but still a prison.

...

As we leave the public's eyes our prep-team descends upon us. Peeta and I finally let go of each other's hand and we try to message some life into our sore limbs. While our team seems overjoyed by the crowd's response the other tributes are shooting us dark looks. They don't like how much attention we gained. We are going to have to watch our backs from now. We are not well liked.

Cinna and Portia helps us down from the chariot. The flames are soon put out and we can breathe easier. We let the team work, to exhausted to care about any results. Portia is the first to scurry of with her tribute, promising him a hot shower. I look pleading at Cinna and he gives me an equal promise off a hot shower.

After the shower and getting dressed in new clothes I follow Effie to our floor. Haymitch is collecting Peeta so we have the entire twelfth floor to ourselves for a few minutes. I hardly look at the layout, already familiar with it. Instead I sit down at the dinner table that is placed in front of a large window.

"You were truly marvelous my dear. So pretty with that fire." Effie tells me as she poured herself some juice. "I might have a real shot of advancing next year because of you. How exciting."

"We're happy to help." Is my sarcastic reply.

"Oh, dear. I've hurt you." She sounds shocked by the very idea. Unable to understand why I wouldn't love the attention we're getting. " Katniss, darling, the games has truly been a hard on me. My tributes has never gotten this much attention. You should enjoy it, I do."

"It's hard to enjoy something that will kill you." I say bitterly. Staring down at my plate.

At that moment we are interrupted by an Avox entering the room. It is Lavinia, Darius wife. I go cold as I see her. Last time we meet I had babysat her baby. She doesn't speak, can't since her tongue is removed and I have to force myself to look away. Feelings of guilt weighing me down. I have failed her in so many ways.

"Oh, good. Start bringing out the food and then make sure the rooms are ready." Effie orders and Lavinia follows without question. It hurts seeing her broken and meek. Knowing the person that's hiding inside.

"I don't know if I can eat." I tell her as the table get set.

"None of that, you need to eat." Effie says without pause, making me focus on her, before sending the Avox away. "You are _my _tribute. I can't have you fainting from hunger, how unprofessional."

"Yes, wouldn't want you to appear amateurish." I say sarcastically.

"Now look here young lady, I'm the best at what I do, and all I needed was to get noticed." Effie informs me. "I know every single sponsor in this city, and now I can finally reach for the sky. It will be marvelous." She sounds so convinced that I'm inclined to believe her, Effie is a force to be reckon with when she decides to be, but selfish.

"Just eat your dinner and leave the rest to me; I will make you a star..." I start eating just to have an excuse for not talking while Effie makes calls on her pod and plans. Lavinia thankfully doesn't come back.

By the time Haymitch and Peeta join us I have already consumed three sandwiches, some soup, one apple and two bananas. My appetite being bigger than my guilt it seems. Peeta ditches Haymitch and joins me in the nearby chair and digs in. He's as hungry as I am. The atmosphere is a bit tense, but mostly friendly.

When nighttime comes we all retire to our rooms. But I found myself unable to relax, the stress of the day being too much. I sit on the bed, the sound of the wind going through threes playing in the backroom; complements to my forest-projected wall. I let my hands flow over the soft fabric on the bed. It feels like water. I breathe in the cool air and think of Prim and mom.

I know how important sleep is, that and food, but I'm too high-strung. The thought of home not helping. Then there's Peeta, the game will be hardest on him. He has no survival skill or knowledge about the wild. His whole life has been about fearing it. A fact encourages in twelve.

What saved him the first time was the alliance with the careers. It had cost him his leg, but he had lived. Otherwise he would have died within the first two days. Incapable of hunting for his own food, building a shelter or make fire.

After a while I can't sit still anymore. I feel too contained. I walk into the main room, at first I believe myself alone but a burp announces the present of another. It comes from across the room. I walk towards the bar, hidden away by heavy curtains of black metal plates. Knowing who I will find.

The curtains make a clipping sound as I enter. Making a pair of red swollen eyes lock onto mine. At first you would think it is because of the drinking, but the redness of the cheeks indicates crying. Haymitch never cries.

I look around, there is no one but us. I curse silently, never being good at giving comfort, but unwilling to leave him alone since we need him sober in the morning. I move to sit next to him at the glass-disk, touching its cold surface to have something to do.

"What's up?" I start lamely, the only thing I can think of saying.

"You… You know. I… I hate this shit." Haymitch slurs as he throws his free hand around him. Indicating the whole Capital. I silently agree with him. He looks at me.

"You ain't dumb." He says after staring at me for a few seconds.

"No I'm not." I say. "But I ain't smart either."

He nods at this. Agreeing. It had taken me years to accept that my intelligence was limited, that I wasn't smarter than others. I just looked at the world from another point of view than normal. Guess it happens when you spend years focusing on two points: survival and food.

We sit in quiet for a while.

"Can't sleep?" He asks.

"...Too much to process." I answer.

He nods before lowering his head into his hands. The glass of whiskey left alone for a while.

"That's the trick you know." Haymitch says, his voice lowered.

"To think?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"No, to take time to process." He says. He looks up at me and makes sure that I listen. "That's the key. If you slow down for just a second and process what happening it gives you more tools." I get what he is saying, but we both know that it's not that simple.

"A bit hard to stop when the person behind you is trying to kill you." I half-joke. It makes him chuckle darkly. Silence descends again. He is of in his own land, miles away. I can see how he starts yearning for another sip of the booze, his hand is starting to twist.

"We understand you know." I say to distract him and take a hold of his glass, moving it out of the way. He is startled by my sudden words and seems intrigued.

"What?"

"The pain." I plow on anticipating his reaction. "What you have to do _every time_. The choice... How little you have to work with. We understand Haymitch." I say it softly, needing him to realize that we don't look to him for a savior. Only to get us as far as he can. Because you are never free from the Game. NEVER. Not even when peace reign.

He flies of the barstool, knocking it over. The sound louder because of the open space. He don't stay around, practically storms away. I won't see more of him tonight. I grimace at this and raises the glass to my lips. I stop when a new voice speaks behind me.

"That went well." Peeta says. He looks as tired as I feel. He smiles at me, but it doesn't reach his eyes; looking like a ghost. I indicate the chair to my left which he takes. I give him the glass and he takes a small sip, his gasp makes me smile a bit more warmly.

"Do you think he is right?" Peeta asks me.

"About what?"

"His advice." Peeta says as he take another sip before handing me back the glass.

"Yes." I answer. "But it will be a hard one to follow. Our instinct will tell us otherwise."

"How do you know that?"

"After my father died all I could do was react to everything for months. I stopped thinking and I didn't even realize it." I say bitterly, it hadn't been until Peeta gave me the bread that I had taken the time to deal with everything and only after the war had I comprehend it all. The urge to survive can actually lead a person to their death, not rescue.

At my words Peeta only nods.

"...Are you tired." I ask.

"Yes. But I can't sleep." He answers.

"Neither can I."

He just hums at this. I wait for a couple of seconds, the idiot doesn't grasp it. I roll my eyes. I turn to him and poke him on the forehead.

"We slept well together last night, no nightmare. Willing to do it again?" I ask in a snarky voice. Irritated by his idiocy.

"Oh!" Is the reply. I'm ready to call it quits and go back to bed. As I move to get up Peeta stops me by placing his hand over mine. I look at him, he is smiling for real this time.

"Sure. That would be great." I nod and take hold of his hand and lead him to my room.

I open the doors and walk inside. Peeta follows, trying to be as quiet as he can be. That is not much. I bite my tongue to stop myself from commenting. All that grace he can have in a room full of people, but the moment he is unsure of his environment he turns into a stumbling buffoon.

"Will the trees and the sound bug you?"

"No! But I'm not used to it." Peeta answers bravely. "... why a forest?"

"My father loved the tranquility the forest provided." I tell him as I draw the cover from the bed, to selfish to change the scenery. We crawl in and get settled, curling up close to share body heat. To begin with Peeta's too nervous to relax, but after I start humming under my breath he slowly calms down.

Soon he's asleep and I scoot closer, wrapping my arms around him and fall asleep.

.

.

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**Chapter 15**

**.**

The next day is full of activity, making me thankful for the rest I've gotten. Unfortunately we hadn't been as lucky this morning to wake up on be ourselves. Instead Effie shrieking and yelling of "**Get up**" had made us spring from the bed in panic.

We had almost fallen off, but thankfully Peeta was quick to catch us before we tipped over. It had progressed from there into a full out nightmare. At the table Effie went on and on about our success the other day; how she had meet with so many people to advertise us and how much we had, as a pair, left an impact. I was in a horrible mood when breakfast was done.

A fact that Haymitch used viciously for his own amusement. At the moment we were on the way down to the training facilities. Haymitch making jokes as we traveled.

"So… How long have you been lovey-dovey? Hmm. Come on tell uncle Haymitch all about it." I was contemplating murder. His one saving grace being that we had arrived at the ground floor and would soon be in the presence of the other tributes. I almost wish I would be facing him in the arena. The thought of pummeling him made me salivate.

I'm first to step into the training-facilities. The space is huge and located below the hotel, with no possibilities for escape. Thankfully far away from the media, they don't have excess here. The walls surrounding me are grey concrete and everywhere there is weapons, supply tables, training areas, dummies, computers, training-programs and much more. I instantly recognize the layout.

The next few days will be busy ones. We only have three days to learn the basics; the first few hour is for introduction and basic courses, then getting acquainted with the facility and practice. I want to forgo all of that and just play with the bows before me, to the left, until the days are done. The thought of interacting with the others are daunting.

The weight of a bow-kit is like a security-blanket for me; narrowing my world down to the string and arrow. I desperately want that, but need to pay attention to the lectures offered. I will need the knowledge later. Last time I forgot almost everything due to stress and now I have Peeta to think off. I will not waste this opportunity by longing after a weapon. Especially since Snow will later try to kill me.

The training room is full, all the other twenty-two tributes are already there and by the looks of it in full work. The competition is hard, even in the softer youngsters you can see the burn for survival showing. In here we all stop being human and starts becoming tributes.

A deadly toy made by the capitol.

Haymitch stands behind me and Peeta, sizing up the competition.

"Whatever you do don't show them any true strength or skill. No one really believe that our district has much to give, let them continue believing that." He tells us quietly.

Peeta looks at him for a second and then nods.

"I don't have any particular skill. Katniss' is a good hunter though. My father says her arrows never misses." He trails off before he moves towards the camouflage section. Not wanting to linger. Haymitch looks at me inquiry.

"I had to hunt to survive, many at home knows this so…" I wagly answer.

"And you didn't mention this before..." Haymitch asks darkly.

"I didn't trust you yet. Still don't, but..." I tell him in a clip voice. Haymitch makes a face but nods, understanding my thought process.

"Keep that close until you are before the gamekeepers. They will be impressed if you are good." I nod at Haymitch words, already knowing this.

"Peeta underestimates himself, he has unbelievable strength and he can use color to blend in." I whisper to Haymitch as I watch Peeta. The instructor hasn't started her lecture, but shows him to the different items at his request.

"Then keep him from showing it." Haymitch hisses at me and pushes me towards my fellow tribute. I roll my eyes at the man's retreating back and walk over to Peeta. We have another ten minutes before the head-trainer starts showing us around and I want to get a few words with him before. The instructor leaves us alone as I walk up, giving me room to talk more openly.

"You do the cakes back home, don't you?" Is the first thing I say, startling Peeta. He holds a paintbrush in his hand and looks at me.

"Yes."

"The once usually shown in the windows, right." I take the brush from him and places it on the table.

"Yes, usually. Mom isn't as good at the details as I am." He answers.

"Good. Then you have a strong skill. You can mask yourself, blend in with your surroundings. That and your strength are your biggest weapons." I tell him in short order.

"That not much." Peeta sounds defeated. I had forgotten how insecure he was at this age and how little hope he had of surviving.

"Perhaps, or it is just enough to build something out off. You have what you have. The question is how you are going to use it." I say in an angry tone, annoyed by his attitude. I hate seeing him so weak.

I don't let him speak, instead I move over to the group at the center. All tributes are now accounted for. Every face I look at is stiff and closed off. All are tense and worried, what we learn here determines how long we survive out there. The thought is daunting.

We all stand there together; Peeta and I in our red, black and silver uniforms. It is made out of a soft fabric that stretches as you move. I have never thought about how comfortable it was, the shirt and pants hugs my figure and keeps me warm and yet at the same time cool. The number twelve is sown into the back, front chest and upper shoulders, making it capable for onlookers to identify us.

The others have different outfits, made to suit the wearer, mostly in colors based on their district. It makes the group as a whole look like a gathering of birds. The thought almost makes me snort. The image of the twelve districts prancing by a lake is amusing. Fox girl, who's named Finch, seems to sense my thought for her green eyes drills into mine and I quickly look away. Seeing her dead face flash before my eyes. I will not forget her name this time. That much I owe her.

Our head trainer is yet again Atala, a big and muscular woman around forty. She must come from district two for she has the classical signs; Closed of face, short nose, cold eyes, muscle mass and short temper. The epitome of a soldier.

She tells us about the different instructors and trainers, their specialty and sections. Such as medic-station, hunting- and snare-station, survival-station, camouflage-station, food-station and so on. The biggest focus points for many was the training areas; were different trainers thought you the basics in combat, knife throwing and sword-fighting.

Atala only has one major rule that all contestants must follow; there is to be _no _form of fighting between the contestants.

As we listen to Atala my eyes wonders to the different tributes, most of them taller and stronger than me. But I can easily ignore them. What affected me the most it the younger children. Most of us was in our late teens, but they're small and has next to nothing going for them in this game. All off them look starved and weak.

Peeta and I have that going for us, we were by no means healthy, but neither are close to starvation. Me thanks to the meat I hunted and Peeta to the bread he baked. I soon leave this trail of thought, the concept too heavy to contemplate. I knew that I would face all this again when volunteering. No point in crying over it now.

When Atala is done the group split up, the careers going for the heavy weapon whilst the rest of us linger around the survival area. Some tributes tried to impress the careers, as usual for every game and failing miserably.

The careers usually ignore outsiders, keeping close to their own group. Killing of any real competition at the cornucopia, before taking care of the leftovers. Their strategy usually works well to their favor, but many smarter tributes have used this fact against them. Johanna being an excellent example. She manage to make everyone underestimate her by playing weak, than later killing her opponents of one at the time viscously.

"We should not be seen to close, the careers might think we are making an alliance and that isn't good." I whisper to Peeta as we slowly move over towards the survival-area. He nods slowly, getting the idea of my plan.

We don't split up but keep our distant for the rest of the day. We develop a working system of silent signals. I would signal to him that the lesson on poisons is worth taking and he me towards the lessons in different snares. I wonder briefly how we can communicate so well without really knowing each other yet, but then Peeta has always been able to read me and I've learned from our years together. It shouldn't be that surprising.

No one gives us looks, or much attention which is what I'm going for. I don't want to draw the careers attention. The drawback being that the sponsors watching is starting to ignore us.

At one point Peeta had drifted towards the painting station, drawing the onlookers to his talent in painting. I was glad for the attention they gave him, but it also draw the attention of Marvel. I took comfort that he only scuffed at Peeta and quickly moved on.

I also gained attention when I was at the fire-station. I got the fire burning faster than the others and also used it to make transportable fire-sticks, break rock and make smoke signals. Nothing much, but enough to satisfy a couple of sponsors and game-planners.

That was another thing I found out during the day. I could see which of our audience that was sponsor and which ones was game makers. A fact that gave me comfort, I could predict from their different reaction to other tributes what they found exciting and boring. What they might think they could use and what not.

I manage to control my feelings and small flashback as I meet the different tributes throughout the day, drilling my nails into my thigh when I needed extra focus. I made it progress, the only real slip being when Glimmer was pointing and arrow at me and laughing. The look on her face made me lose it. The one thing preventing me from making a scene was the appearance of a guard in front of Glimmer, telling her to stand down. Peeta was forced to collect me and move me out of the way. I couldn't move for over an hour. He didn't leave me but neither did he comfort me, instead he sat in front of me and practiced tying knots.

Thankfully I managed to control my emotions in the end and could continue training. I was not the only one that had an episode over the day thankfully, everyone's nerves where high strung at the end of the day. We were all grateful when our handler came to collect us.

**.**

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**Chapter 16**

**.**

After we showered Peeta and I join the others in the living room. Cinna and Portia being there to plan the days to come with Haymitch and Effie. They only had a two more days to make us unforgettable and was going over strategies. We don't join them in the talk, but sit at the table and eat. Trying to follow as the prep-team jumps from one idea to the next.

Peeta don't ask me what my attack was all about, nor does he tell on me. However it is clear by the looks he gives me that he's curious.

"Have you seen the roof yet?" Peeta asks from the blue, interrupting Effie and silencing the talk. Everyone looks at us and I could kick him for the unwanted attention.

"No, why?" I force myself to say calmly, lying through my teeth.

"Portia told me about it before, she said that you can see the whole city without anything blocking you." Peeta explains.

"Yes, it is a beauty. You must see it Katniss. It takes your breath away." Portia tells me. From the looks on the others they want us away from the room. I give a strained smile and get up.

"Well lets go then." I say and let Peeta lead the way to the elevator and soon we are traveling the short distant to the roof.

When we get out we stop dead in our tracks. I can feel a blush coming on. We are not alone on the roof. Cato is also there, together with Glimmer. They are kissing. On the ledge. Just a few meter in front of us. Peeta and I look at each other and then we turn around and get back into the elevator. We don't speak until the doors are shut.

"Well, that was unexpected." I finally manage to say. Peeta nods. Then we both look awkwardly at each other. Son I can see Peeta's shoulder trembling and realize that he is holding back laughter. My first instinct is to punch him on the arm and I gladly do.

"Stop laughing." I demand.

"Can't help it, didn't see that coming." Peeta says as he laughs. I roll my eyes at him and huff.

"Well, what are we going to do now? They wanted us away from the room." I ask him.

"We could go to the training room. We are allowed there any hour of the day. We really don't have that many options." Is Peeta's answer. I give a sigh and nod my head. We press the bottom for the lower level and watch the different floors pass by as we go down.

The feeling of being so high up is actually quite comfortable and I enjoy it for the few seconds it lasts. As the doors pling we move into the facility, aimlessly looking around for something to do.

"We're not really dressed for this are we?" Peeta says as he looks at his loose fitted sweat-pants and thin shirt. I have to agree with him as the cold air makes my skin nots. My top and similar pants being too thin to give any warmth.

"We make do. Good practice I suppose."

We are not completely alone in the room, the night guard is posted along the wall. Keeping a watchful eye on us.

"We could train making fire, you were better at it than me." At those words I smile. It's a good plan actually. For over an hour we practice making fire out of different materials, the flames helping us to stay warm. But soon enough I'm bored and want to do something else.

As I walk around the area I find bean-bags in a box. I don't know what they could be used for but I get an idea as I weight one of them in my hands. But I need permission first.

I slowly walk over to a guard. Making it clear I don't want trouble. The guard steps away from its post and raises the face shield.

"What is your question twelve?" He demands in a harsh tone.

"I'm I allowed to use this in a game with another tribute?" I answer, direct to the point.

"I will inquire." He steps away and contacting someone before waiting on a reply. After a few seconds he get an answer and before long he looks back at me.

"No harmful intent. No body contact and only on the floor-mattresses. Is that clear." He tells me. I only nod before moving back towards Peeta.

"What was that?" is the first thing he asks me.

"I needed permission to play a game." I say as I walk us over to the mattresses in question. Three avoxes enters the room and moves several boxes with bean-bags over to the area.

"What game?" Peeta asks and I smirk in reply as I raises the first bag.

"This." I shout before hitting him in the face and running away. He looks dumfounded but soon he gets a glint in his eyes and scoop up several bags. The game is on and we give as good as we get, it is much more fun than I expected and we lose track of time.

It isn't until a bag hits be from above that I take in the outside world again. I look up and see Rue above me. She has several bag in her arms and are aiming them at me and Peeta.

"Don't you dare..." Peeta starts before Rue hits him right on the head, making me laugh at the look on his face. The game starts up again, but this time with three players. It's not until Rues handler comes to collect her that we stop, all three exhausted and on a much happier mood than we started with.

"Thanks for letting me play." Rue says before disappearing into her elevator. Her words makes me sober up and I look at the closed door before me. I give Peeta a bitter smile when he touch my shoulder, asking me if I want to head up. I only nod in reply.

We don't speak as we enter our floor. It is quiet, everyone is in their room. We look at each other and silently agree to sleep together again. Peeta leaves me for a short time to change cloths while I quickly wash up.

We snuggle down with less awkwardness this time and it only takes a few minutes before Peeta is asleep. I follow.

The entire night is plagued by nightmares of Rue's death. Peeta being forced to wake and comfort me more than once. Me tears staining his shirt. I'm beyond grateful for his support.

...

Its early morning and I wake from another nightmare, this time without screaming. Peeta is fast asleep next to me and I don't have the heart to wake him. I sneak out of the bed and the room, walking around without purpose in the dining area.

I soon yearn for fresh air and decide to go up to the roof. I take the stairs. The wind is hard and unforgiving as I open the door. The bitter cold of the morning biting me and I almost wish I had taken a thicker sweater before coming here.

The view is breathtaking, the darkness still lays heavily over the city, making every turned on light look like a field of fireflies. The sight is wondrous. It is also a sign of how much power the capitol has. In the other districts electricity is seen as a luxury, here as given. No citizen has to worry if they are going to have food, warmth or light for the night. I can feel old bitter emotion stirring at the thought and try to ignore them.

For the rest of the night I walk the false gardens, trying to fight of the breakdown that are looming over me. I can't allow myself to be that weak, not now. What brings me back from the edge of despair is the sound of moaning. It penetrates my world and before I think I follow the sound to its origin.

Behind a couple of red bushes are two tributes in the throes of passion. They do not see me, but I see everything of them. I hurry away as silent as I can be, blushing heavily as I walk to the other end of the roof. I stand at the ledge and watch the city awake, trying to ignore any sound I hear.

I guess everyone finds their way of coping with the trials to come, I'm almost glad that the pair has found each other for the short time they have left. Everyone deserves a piece of happiness and comfort.

When the first sunlight hits me I finally am ready to face the day. I walk back to my room and sit next to Peeta, reading some survival- manuals on a pad.

…

As Effie enters the living room that morning she happily tells us about her triumphs last evening. We were the talk of the city, making Effie the most sought out handler this year. Us standing united during the concretion had made the masses curious, they wanted to know everything about us. She was overjoyed by the attention and had worked hard to get us as many sponsors as she could.

"At least one or two I gained you two last night."

The only thing Effie wanted now was for me to seem a bit more open and approachable, she was certain that if I tried to be warmer she could make me into a true heroine. Peeta being a favorite from the start, but perhaps needed a bit more edge to himself. I just look at her. It is Haymitch, as he joins us that breaks the silence. He tells Effie that the only chance for me to be warm is if he put me on fire.

Luckily Peeta stops me from giving Haymitch from a fist to the face; "It wouldn't be a good start of the morning if you assaulted your handler" he told me in a hushed voice.

We continued to eat our breakfast together, talking about different thing we learned the previous day. Haymitch commenting what would be most useful, while Effie tried to resist the cupcakes.

…

After breakfast was over and we had been dressed in our training uniforms Effie took us down to the training-ground. She hardly stayed a second to say goodbye, clearly uncomfortable with the military feel to the place.

Peeta indicated that he wanted to start the second day by learning about shelter. An idea that I almost passed in order to focus on weapons training, wanting a chance to pummel something. But at his pleading look I relented and we both headed for the equipment area. Our instructor was an older man with a sleep-inducing voice. The knowledge he gave was valuable, but he was so boring that Peeta relented after an hour.

The game makers as well as sponsors seem to be a bit more active today as well, making me nervous. They were walking on the pathways above us, looking down at different tributes and talking amongst themselves. It affected more people than just me. Many of the smaller kids tried finding ways to get noticed, unfortunately no career would have it. Accident happen frequently over the day as a sponsor or two looked two long on any tribute from five and down. I was spared mostly because of the frown many of the onlookers gave me.

The good thing about the day was Peeta. He was getting attention from more than just the sponsors. His natural curiosity and goodness was gaining him followers; they youngsters followed him as he walked from station to station. Talking amiably amongst each other. By lunch Peeta had manage to befriend almost all tributes. Even the careers had taken time to talk to him.

I'm amazed by his talent. I have a hard time not insulting anyone by just looking at them, but Peeta just have to smile and everyone likes him. I sometime believe that he is a mutt. No one is that good.

After lunch we and company try the combat-section. I focusing mostly on hand to hand, where the smaller target can disable the bigger. For most part I have to dumb down the knowledge. If I were to use my military-schooling from district thirteen I would bring hell down on twelve. Snow would believe that a rebellion is brewing and he would bomb us just on the off chance.

Peeta focus on combat with weapons. It is revealed that he can handle a sword relative good. He has the grace, strength and movements for the broadswords and he lingers the longest at that station. He fails at the knife-section, and breaks the string at the bow. He fails at terrain when he falls out of the nets, stumbles over "rocks", breaks "branches" on the ground and knocks his head on beams. I try to help him without getting notice, but Peeta has no skill for terrain.

The tuff bit comes in the afternoon. Most of us are at the climbing wall, learning different ways to climb and find sturdy material. It is at this Rue shines. She scurries up the wall quicker than anyone, but are a bit slower on the rope. She impresses the instructor and I'm glad for her. Unfortunately she's done the fastest so she has gravitated towards me over the past hour. I don't want to interact with Rue; for me and Peeta to survive she must die. It would be better if she stayed far away from me. She damaging me calm.

She stands behind a column a few meter away, half hidden. She is twelve years old but look no more than ten. Half-starved and short. Her eyes are big and innocent, you can get lost in their forest-brown depts. Her hair is big, bushy and wild; it looks like a wildflower that has been through a storm. Her skin is brown, almost glowing golden in the fluorescent-light. She has a grace to her that makes me think of birds in flight.

Like my sister Rue is named after a flower;_ the common rue_, a flower with blue, purple or yellow petals. Sometimes it looks like a cat with yellowish whiskers. I remember her mom telling me that she had chosen the name for its strong perseverance, some can live for hundreds of years.

The thought hurts.

"She has been for a while." Peeta says when he is close enough.

"Perhaps she's following you." I say in an off manner. Keeping up our charade.

"I'm sorry Kattail but you seem to have inquired a friend."

I fake a horrified look at Peeta. "Wash out that mouth with soap." He laugh as he moves away. His been invited by Cato to train spears together. The thought sickens me but I let him go without protest.

I continue to ignore Rue for the remaining of the day. We only interact with each other at one points, but that over so fast that I hardly noticed it. When Effie comes to collect us for support I'm beyond grateful, I even give her a smile in thanks before entering the elevator.

On the way up Effie congratulates Peeta for his successes during the day. The game makers had let it slip that he was making friends and impressing the instructors. Making the public long for him more than ever. I have been a bit more reserved much to her aggravation, but what the makers have let slipped has still brought me some attention to her joy and comfort.

Overall we are not amongst the best nor are we amongst the worst when the days ends. A fact that I am content with. It is better to be in the middle, having security of longer survival with possibilities to surprise.


	9. Chapter 17 & 18

This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvelous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with.

_I make no profit..._

Chapter 17

It's the last day of training and my nerves are shot to hell. Peeta has tried to make me cheerful all morning, but my gloomy disposition has even him taking a distance from me. On top of that Haymitch is adamant that I strive to be more pleasant. While the rest may see a young girl with a reserved smile Haymitch sees the instability underneath. He would probably take his chances with Peeta if not for the fact that I'm just as sly as him.

He is somewhat impressed with how little I've given away, but still maintain enough of a spark to keep it interesting. He tells me that my popularity was mainly due to me volunteering and the fact that Peeta make me look kind. The unity stunt we pulled have giving me admirers, but not enough to insure anything when the cannon goes off.

"You need to give more to gain more. You only have so much time left." He says and holds up his thumb and fore finger, showing but an inch of space right before my face. My mood becomes even gloomier after that: it was just like the first time around. I thought I had made a better impression. I haven't been nearly as prideful and cold this time around.

Why is it that my success always comes back to Peeta? Can't I be anyone without him?

The answer I get scares me, for it means I have to find a way to mend us together again and one of us is broken beyond repair; Without Peeta I'll never have the power to become _the girl on fire._ He has saved me from the edge so many time that I have stopped counting. Or is it going to, will, should? Oh! This is confusing. Peeta is the one that brings out my kindness, goodness and light. Without him I'm dark, cold and alone.

The only other light in my life being Prim, and she doesn't need me to be human. Only strong enough to keep her alive.

I swallow my pride and anger. Resolved to follow Haymitch advice, yet again. So when the doors open to the training-room I force myself to change, trying to be all smiles and easiness. I even make lewd comments to Glimmer about roofs and moonlight. Making her blush and curse at me. I talk to the others around Peeta, not being too friendly. Only more polite. Trying to show me good side to the onlookers.

I'm amazed that they seem to buy it. The sponsors look towards my area almost from the start, mostly when I laugh or make a joke. Forcing the current company to laugh with me or look dumb. Prim and mom will be shocked if they were allowed to watch this. Before I came here I hardly ever laugh around them, or anyone. My cheeks hurt from all the fake smiling.

Peeta happily follows my charade and any mistake I do he quickly saves, but he still keeps a distance. Not willing to be subjected to my laps and silent mood swings.

Cato is not pleased by my act. He has tried since day one to win over the potential sponsor, making most of them a bit tired of him it seemed. My odd behavior was luring them towards me area of the facility. Forcing him to struggle even harder for attention and not to look an idiot while doing it. Clover, Marvel and the other careers helping him. The entire area is one big struggle of tributes fighting for attention within the hour. All smiling while doing so.

It's sickening, but a necessity.

The surprise of the day is that I lose myself in my character; I find myself smiling and laughing for real. Sometimes it even makes me feel like I'm actually sixteen and not twenty-six. Those instances are few and I work through the chock quickly when they happen. I will think about it more later, since everyone in this room wants me dead. Except Peeta, a fact that gives me great comfort and security.

When it's time for dinner Effie collects us for some last minutes advice. We follow her without a word and I can finally stop smiling as the elevator-doors close. We only have two more hours before the private sessions begins. Effie has been trying to coach us ever since we entered the train, in her own way, for the events to come. I have tried to listen as best I could, but most of her wisdom are hidden behind insipid words or told from an innocent point of view.

[_"The sponsors want to see your beauty and elegance..." _meaning"_Whatever you do don't stumble, stutter or insult anyone. Always do everything with grace so they love you"]. _

As we eat Effie talks, Haymitch speaking in between. Both trying to get as much in as they can before we go down again. When we finished I'm thankful that it is Haymitch that follows us down. Effie being too nervous to go outside the door.

"I made a blunder today." Peeta breaks the silent. Making Haymitch focus on us. He stares at him with tired eyes. Waiting for an explanation. "I accidentally showed Marvel and Noah my strength when we were lifting weights."

"And Noah is?" Haymitch drawled.

"Boy from three." Peeta say. Haymitch nods.

"What's his strength?"

"Explosives, smarts, but otherwise small and weak." I say deadpan. Remember the pain from our late meeting and his death.

"It wasn't much, but I could lift more than them and I think Marvel got suspicious. He was talking to Cato later." Peeta explained nervously. I had missed the whole interaction, but could guess what he was worried about. Peeta didn't want the careers to target him. He knew he wouldn't survive that.

"It might be good. Give them a taste, but nothing resolute. They might be curious enough to let you live… or give you a drink before skewering you." Haymitch says after some thinking and clap Peeta on the shoulder before the elevator comes to a stop. "Play the friend, use your talents and hope you live." He push us out the doors and smirks.

Peeta is pale, but Haymitch words makes me remember something Peeta told me a long time ago: How Effie was Haymitch front, while he moved about in the background. Like a serpent in a beautiful garden. One petite flower using her beauty to stealing the attention, letting the predator though when the gardener wasn't looking. I find myself having fallen for that front. Almost every interaction with our handler have unnoticeable made me think of Haymitch as the drunk… something he's done on purpose._ *I know better, how the fuck?* _

The thought is shilling, but it makes me glad that they _our _handler. Haymitch will keep us alive and Effie will make it look like it isn't so.

If they can fool _me _they can fool anybody.

"That man's nuts." Peeta states when we're sure Haymitch are gone. I nod in agreement,

"Utter bonkers. But his our nutcase." I answer. We read in between the lines for the actual words we want to say. Having to pinch ourselves to prevent our shock from showing. Both clearly amazed that the capitol has missed such a dangerous person. After that nothing else is said and soon we have split up to continue training. There still some time left and it would be stupid to waste it. The other tributes must have thought the same for they were all here. Fully focused and divided. The tension was thick.

…

When the clock strikes five every tributes leaves the training-ground. We move as a whole towards the mach-room. It is a room specially design for tributes, from there we will be led to the private sessions. There are twenty-four seats, all numbered after the districts. Twelve is the furthest from the door made out of soundproofed iron. Behind it waits the gamemakers, our future executioners, and the sponsors.

The mach-room is small and bare. The only thing mentionable is the walls. The concrete wall hold every name of tributes fallen. Around me there are one-thousand-seven-hundred and nine names, it should be six names less but we only have sixty-seven surviving tributes. Some older than Mags and even one younger than me. Their names are lettered in gold. Soon most of our names will join them.

It brings back memories from old; off Haymitch telling us to go all out at these session, adamant that we didn't waste the opportunity. Not understanding then that the points weren't so much for our sake as for our handlers, it gave them an edge when they worked the sponsors. I needed every sponsor I could get; Haymitch had told me they weren't buying my story completely, they had noticed the edge underneath and my instability.

Every tribute leaves the room with a heavy heart. As their time draws close more than one tribute breaks down and starts crying. That is the reason why the gamekeepers will never show the private sessions. The pain, anguish and fear we all experience behind the closed doors are for their amusement alone. The only thing the public will see is the points and a resume of our best training-moments; it's no wonder that careers get more screen time than the rest of us.

Every tribute get about ten minutes with the gamekeepers, longer if a request is voiced. Cato, Glimmer, Thresh and foxgirl a.k.a Finch was in there for over twenty minutes, each. One girl ran out after six, crying bitter tears. It takes over three hours before it is Peeta's turn. As he stands I grab hold of his arm. He looks down at me, pale.

"You can do this, I know you can." I whisper at him, saying it to both of us really. Peeta just nods and gives me a reassuring smile before entering. Then I'm alone, not a single person left, only the names staring at me as I think about the next step. The plan I had this morning felt weaker by the minute.

Fifteen minutes passes and Peeta doesn't return. I wait another three before I start getting real nervous and insecure. It hadn't taken this long the first time and it makes me question everything. He finally emerge from the room after twenty-three minutes. A fake smile on his lips, at least he isn't as pale. From the sweat on him and the rosy cheeks I'm guessing he went for strength again. Hopefully he tested a few swords and spears to. I'm a bit relieved when laughter can be heard from the test-room. He doesn't speak or look at me as he passes. His eyes are dead, staring into space as the elevator door shuts. Atala stands at the door, calling my name.

With a weak plan and a feeling of dread I get up. Knowing only one thing as I entered the room and the door shut behind me; the spearing of an apple was out, too much bad attention would come out of it. I've been a bit of everything in the gamemakers eyes; sad, silent, strong, weak, happy and content. They probably seen every hidden moment where I've lost it and then some. I really needed to impress them today to get high scores.

There are about twenty viewers, standing on a balcony three meter up, at the far end of the room. Just as the training-facility this room holds everything a tribute could need. Nobody's paying any attention to me as I walk forward. They have been here for over three hours and watch everyone else whilst drinking and eating; they are tired, content and wants to go home. Unlike last time this doesn't anger me, only make the pressure to impress greater.

I will go for the bow immediately, trying to impress with my main talent. I almost forget to greet them in my haste to get to the archer-section. The only thing making me stop is a movement from one of the men upstairs. Bringing home that some politeness and social conversation can only help me. Hopefully they are in a good mood after Peeta.

"Katniss Everdeen, district twelve." I say in a strong voice, standing below them. Gaining some of their attention. Making me breath a bit.

"Welcome Miss Everdeen. What will you show us today?" It is Senestra Crane that speaks. Clearly going through the process. He is as I remember: thin, tall and a capitolist to the teeth. He is dressed in a dark smaragdine colored suit with silver linings, looking like a popsicle. His beard and mustache shaped like heart around his slim jaw and thin mouth.

"I will show you archery." I tell him, trying to sound cheery and young. I have to strain my smile when I hear one of them mumbling "Again".

When I get the 'go-ahead-sign' I quickly walk over to the archery station. Afraid of losing the crowd. While weighting the different bows I try to engage them with small talk, mostly to make them laugh and pay attention. I don't fully succeed, but they are looking.

I can feel my fingers twitch as I touch the gems underneath my hand. There is a wide variety of bows before me; some in wood, others in plastic and most in different metals. I chose a simple wood-bow, similar to my fathers and grab a handful of arrows. I hurry over to the shooting range. I still have my group's attention and as I line up before the targets I feel a lot more secured. I won't miss this time, I'm not as nervous as I once been.

The string is tighter than what I am used to. My thin arms and weak muscles hindering me. I have it under control after some pulls back and forth to loosen it up. I smile up to the gamemakers and grab three bows in my right hand. I let the first bow rest on the outside of the bow and pull back. I take aim and fire. In less than a second I have manage to reload the other two arrows and let them fly. All three of them hits the dummy. On in its chest, the other in the left arm and the third in the stomach.

I turn around with a real smile. Confident that I have impressed them with my speed and accuracy. Not many can shot that well with a bow. The applauds that reach me is not for my shot, but for the pig that just been brought in. I only have one or two sponsor that actually looked long enough to notice the shots, but they look bored.

Cursing silently for their ignorance and superiority I'm sorely tempted to fire of the arrow at the pig. _*I freaking succeeded. I'm trying to prevent a war, notice me you a'holes. I will not die for you.* _My hands itch for retribution but there's less than seven minutes left off my time. With so much weighting in the balance I look for another way to gain their attention. I drop the arrow and run over to the tables to my left. Quickly looking over my options. They have knives, hammer, short and long swords, weights and rope. I grab a small rope that is red and a sharp knife as an insane plan forms in my mind. One that will test the boundaries and yet, hopefully, impressed them.

Running to another table next I look over several different survival equipment and tools. Grabbing three canisters, all filled with oil or alcohol. The third table has rings and potatoes as well as flour. I have what I need in less than five minutes. Feeling the pressure I hurry to the center of the room and start cutting the rope in different lengths. Then I tie them to the main line, which is shot over a looming belk. Relieved as it goes over without any problems I start hoisting the rope up, keeping one foot firmly on the end as I tie rings, potatoes and oil to the added lines. My hard work pays off, some of the gamemakers are throwing interested looks my way. _*They seen nothing yet.*_ I have to tie the end rope around my waist as I'm done, having forgotten to collect weights and time being an issue. Thankfully the rope is long enough.

There less than two minutes left and my hands are shaking from the adrenaline rush. I grab the arrow kit, securing it to my side and go down on one knee. The bow on the ground before me. I take a deep breath, count to three and then I'm off. I rip the bow up from the ground and load it with an arrow. The first shoot hits one off the potatoes dead on. I reload quickly as I run and aim for the next target. Jumping over tables and equipment as I go. This continue until every potato is hit, not a single arrow missing its target. The ropes are moving as I run, making it even harder.

That's when I start aiming for the rings. The arrows going through them effortlessly, lodging themselves deep into the concrete walls. I have the entire group's attention now. Good, my time's nearly up so I take my biggest jump yet, up onto a moving cart and aim. The arrow hit a bag of flour, the other a can of oil.

The next one will miss, I leaned too much to the left as I fired… and my time is up. I want to scream. But then the sound of metal hitting metal rings in the room and a sudden spark appear. A spark that starts a chain reaction.

In less than two seconds three booms shocks the room. The first spark setting fire to one of the oil-cans, who in turn exploded and lit the other oil-cans. This in turn light the flour on fire. Making it explode in the air, dispersing a white-powder-cloud in the room. No one moves until the dust has settle, then every face of the gamekeepers stare at me, shocked. The peacekeepers below have their weapons trained and ready to shot. I wisely don't move.

It only on the gamemakers demand that the peacekeepers holster their weapons and I can unknot the rope around my waist, which are a relief as it is on fire. The room are destroyed, flour everywhere. I'm as surprised as the rest of them, this was not my plan. I only wanted them to see how I handle different weight and moving objects. However, I had to pretend it was intentional or I would suffer for it later, so I bowed before them and said in a clear voice,

"Thank you for your consideration." Locking eyes with Senestra Cane, his shocked face bringing down the severity of my situation. After that I'm quick to leave the room. It when the elevator door closes before me that my shoulder starts to shake and my eyes tears up. Soon I'm laughing so hard that I can't control myself, falling to the floor in hysterics. I've just made a bomb under the nose of the elite capitolists'; while they were eating a pig. So much for my plan to avoid bad attention.

President Snow will not be happy.

The laughter continues, edge with panic and despair.

…

Effie is not amused.

She is in fact furious at me. Ever since the elevator-doors opened and displayed me she has been in a horrible mood. After getting the whole story she even went into a full on rage at my foolishness. How had I dared do something so dangerous?

Letting her rave was the easiest thing to do whilst trying to look contrite. Lucretia was getting the flower out of my hair at the same time Effie was marching back and forth before my bed, her dress swishing in the air. I could feel the Avox's hands trembling form withhold laughter, making me in turn want to laugh. We manage to control ourselves. It wasn't until much later as we were sitting in the lounge area that Effie calmed down. Running out of things to complain about.

"What were you thinking Katniss?" She eventually asked me in a defeated voice. Her eyes heavy with worry.

"Wasn't." I answer. "I didn't think it would catch on fire. I only wanted them to notice me."

"Well, you did that. They will definitely have noticed you." Effie said in exasperation.

The conversation that followed was much more peaceful and calm. Making me truly enjoy Effie's company. Peeta was first to arrive and interrupt our talk. He had been detained by Portia that wanted some last minutes measures and ask about the meeting. Making me a bit jealous that Cinna hadn't checked in. Effie reassured me he would come by later.

"How did it go for you dear?" Effie inquired worriedly. Afraid of another blunder.

"Okay. I showed them my strength, some camouflage and spear throwing. I seemed to impress them, some even talked to me as I worked." He tells us with a shrug. Not willing to go into detail. I can see the nervousness in his eyes as he talks. He is concerned about the fact they detained him for so long, but we try to reassure him that it could only be a good thing.

After that everything mellowed out and we were all trying to avoid mentioning the upcoming results. Haymitch came later, having been out on the town and mingling. Getting a feel of our current popularity. Upon hearing about my daring stunt he gives me a big grin and an actual kiss on the cheek as congratulation. It's too close to the actual game to off me in the night he tells me somberly when Effie complains. Making Effie start in on him and soon another argument was in full bloom between the two. Peeta went and got us some snacks as we watch. Telling me between bites that it could have been worse.

I'm not overly worried, or so I tell myself. I didn't shot at them this time, but I was a bit concerned that my points would be low… or that the gamemakers had decided to kill me the moment the canon went off. Both fact that I tried my best not to think about.

Later Portia and Cinna joined us, both ignoring the fighting pair and inquiring about our health. It made me happy that Cinna was close, having missed him and his humor over the day. Portia was also a welcome face as it made Peeta even more relaxed and outgoing. Soon the avoxes' brought in support and we set down to eat. Afterwards we relocated to the entertainment room with drinks. The feeling was almost homey. Soon reality came knocking again as the screen lights up.

_*It was time.*_

The introductions are first, with a quick recap of event that's been and what's to come. Then finally judgment is upon us and as usually twelve is last. The careers' are first, their picture dominating the screen until their scores is revealed with a small summary of their strength underneath. Then comes the rest. Rue gets a high number with the comment; _quick and agile, a real promise_. Making me happy for her sake. Then it is Peeta turn. After a lot of talk and compliments the host reveals that he has gained an eight and that the gamemakers thought him to be: _charming, strong and full of surprise_s. Portia was thrilled and Haymitch was congratulating a shocked Peeta that only stared at the scoreboard.

My turn comes next and my butterflies had turned into angry bees. Thankfully the hosts didn't spend too much time talking about me, they wanted to know my scores even more than we did; I received a **seven**. A relative high number and I almost cried over it. The gamemakers comments makes me more sober however: _A girl worthy of the name *Girl on fire*_. That was all and nothing else. The other where congratulating me, but all I could here was President Snow's voice in my head. Telling me that he was watching me. I had to close my eyes and breathe deeply to prevent myself from fainting.

"Hahaha. They seem to like your temper my little spitfire." Haymitch roared with laughter and I gave him a weak chuckle in response. Effie only huffing and tinkering with her glass as Cinna patted my knee. _*Yeah. They like my temper… As long as they can control it._* I thought bitterly.

The interview is round up by comments from the gamemakers and civilians about every tribute. It gains the attention of the grownups. Peeta scoot closer and tentatively takes my hand in his. It's ice-cold. Making sure no one is looking he leans in, making as little space between us as possible.

"Are we friends Kattail?" Peeta asks, his voice filled with sadness and longing. There's a whole world behind that sentence. Dark and twisted. Peeta is looking for some light in the darkness; a person looking for a companion. As if his soul is as old and thorned as mine.

"We are tributes." The words are out of my mouth before I think, dead and cold. My old life flashing before my eyes. He seems hurt be my answer. As I look at Peeta I don't see a boy. I see a young man, my age, which is going through the same thing as me. Stuck in a bad situation, trying to survive. Only he doesn't know what coming. War, terror and nothing but pain.

"Yes, we are friend." I tell him as I squeeze his hand, this time with some warmth. Pushing the bad memories aside. "Friends, comrades, buddies. Whatever the word we are and more. I don't think you can be a tribute without being more." The dying screams of Finnick echoing inside me. _*No, you can never be a tribute and not be more.*_

Peeta gives me a sad nod in reply.

"I don't want them to change me." He whispers.

"Then don't let them." I reply, letting go of his hand and get up. Excusing myself to the others and escape. I run to my room and lock it from the inside. I need time alone. Away from everyone. Peeta words cutting me open. He seems to the only one able to break my calm exterior. The more I'm around him, the more instable I get.

He makes me feel like I'm no longer me, but the **now **me. His desperate need for a companion making want to comfort him. Putting me in a feel hopeless situation. I can't give him the comfort of familiar bonds, jokes and hugs. We are in a sense strangers. Only not from my perspective. I'm just as desperate, lost and alone as him, but I expect more out of our bond. A bond that hasn't even formed properly yet. It leaves me feeling raw and isolated, something that I can't really deal with. It makes me unsure of everything. Hammering home how utterly screwed we are if I can't find a way to cope when the hell begins.

How can one being bring this onslaught of motion out from nowhere? Within seconds? I need time to collect myself. To plan. It's too bad that I can't get a couple of years to do it on. I only have this night. Tomorrow is the interview and then… and then the ARENA. I'm not ready. I becoming more and more not ready as the days go by. I'm losing myself in the present, in the despair, hopelessness and dreary future. Being the odd girl out is slowly destroying me.

What to do?

**Chapter 18**

I lay in bed, thinking about the struggles to come, alone and chilled to the bone. Am I ready? Hell no. I create different scenarios about the many ways I can choose to do this and all of them end with me or Peeta dying horrible. Which is unacceptable.

If I take out one of the careers I will be seen as another tribute, desperately trying to survive and inspire nothing. Might be a good thing, but then I would be done into a sextoy for perverted elitists. If I run I'm judge as a coward and lose sponsors: be killed really fast because of it and someone else becoming a plaything. _*Like Rue*._ The thought fill me with horror. So on and so on it goes. It's hard to decide, even after a year of planning. What would be best course of action? Why am I the one that has to do this? I'm not the smart one; the one that plan. Can I really do this? Again? My head hurts from the many thoughts and doubts I have.

I move about restlessly in my room, unwilling to risk company by leaving it. I take a cold shower and then a hot one. Play with the wall-screen, with the pad and anything else in the room. I mutter as I walk, I shout silently as I beat the pillows. Not the best night of my life.

In the end I'm so exhausted that I just sit on my bed unmoving. Refusing to think or feel anything. I wish that I could speak to Prim. I need her voice right now. But… wait… I can listen to her. My head shot up and I throw myself after the pod. I turn it on and go true the different programs that the capitol has sent the last few days. I find her quickly; she has gotten a lot of attention, everyone wanting to meet the girl worth dying for. The reporters covering district twelve has fallen for her sweet face that much is clear as I see the list of clips available.

I start playing the first clip they done with her and soon her voice breaks the silence. It's like a cool balm to a burned soul. I play every clip they have on her and listen with deep longing for my baby-sister. It's the last clip of hers that really affects me.

"_Primrose, how do you look upon your sister and her many moments in the Capitol?" A journalist asks Prim as they sit in one of the justice building's better rooms. Her hair is braided and my mother sits next to her. Both look a bit pale, but healthy. She hasn't gone hungry._

"_You must be so proud of her." A female journalist states when my sister wait too long to speak._

"_I'm very proud of my sister." Prim confirms after looking to mother. Weighing every word she says, afraid of saying the wrong thing and causing trouble. To the reporters she appears shy and uncomfortable of the spotlight, making them dot on her. I know my sister better._

"_Katniss, she has always tried her best, in everything. No one can have a better caretaker." Her words make me smile. "In many ways she became a second parent after our father passed away; always looking after me and mother."_

"_Was it very hard on you, losing your father?" The male reporter asked. My sister only stares at him for a few second before answering._

"_When my father died I grieved, but Katniss helped me. In many ways she became my father. She helped the both of us." Prim take mother hand and smile at the camera._

"_My daughter has never been a child, not really. She always looks after us. Making sure we are safe and well. Her father's child she is and mine." Mother steps in and tells them, making the camera focus on her. She is clean and beautiful; A mature woman in her prime. I can for a second see why father loved her so deeply._

"_How extraordinary, so Katniss Everdeen is your hero in a sense." The reported stated. Mom and Prim looked at the man and answer with a single word. "Yes."_

With that the interviews was over and the screen goes dark. My world narrowed down to their last word; **Yes.** It has an earth shattering effect on me. I feel more powerful than I had ever felt. They knew. Prim and mother had noticed a difference in me and still accepted me, loved me. I don't know how I could be so certain, but I knew it to the core… they believed in me.

I could have shouted of joy at that moment. Feeling deliberated. Mom recognizing me as her daughter and as a person she could leaned on for support. I was her _child, _a member of the family. Something I hadn't been for a very long time. She didn't want only Prim or the old me. Her words made me realize was they had tried to say in all the interviews. They wanted _me_ home again. They loved _me_.

I weep.

The feeling of belonging welling up inside me and I discover a sense of homesickness. Not that of my future, no, it was for my home here and now. For the first time in a year I felt like I belonged somewhere. I fitted in. The years poured off my shoulders, leaving in its wake a grieving child. A young women that been through war and hardship, desperately longing for her mother and sister. I wanted to go home.

A knock on the door startled me and I answer before I think:

"Come in."

I quickly turn my back to the door to erase any trace of tears; my face feeling hot and sore. The doors unlock at my permission and slowly open. It's Haymitch. He doesn't move further in, just leaning on the threshold for support. I was thankful for that much, hating the fact that he can see me in such a state. At least it wasn't Effie.

"I could hear you to the bar girl. Are you breaking down?" He sounds drunk. I turn to him and give him my best glare. "Ah, I take that as a no. So why all the tears?"

"Nerves. I messed up today. Nothing else, you can go back to your drink." I snap at him. He smirks at me and shrug his shoulders.

"Easy little cat, a dog might bite you in half otherwise." He states with a dangerous glint in his eyes. We looked at each other and an entire conversation takes place between us before he turns around and leaves.

~_**You have to be stronger, or you will die. ~**_

_**~I know. ~**_

_**~Weakness of this magnitude so close is lethal. ~**_

_**~Don't you think I've realized that? ~**_

_**~Hardly, or you wouldn't cry where they see you. ~**_

_**~Always monitored huh! ~**_

_**~Always. ~**_

_**~Give me this night and I will be strong tomorrow. ~**_

_**~You better, I'm betting a lot on you. ~**_

_**~I know. ~**_

_**~Don't fail me, I will leave your ass to die if you do. ~**_

_**~I'm the best you will ever have. You won't. ~**_

_**~Don't be so sure. ~**_

_**~…Asshole.~**_

_**~Aww. The nicest things you think. ~**_

I want to cuss. Haymitch ruined all the joy I've fleetingly had, but I was also grateful. He gave me a chance to reclaim my calm and a cold focus. I was more at ease as I lay down to sleep, finally almost feeling in control of myself.

I belonged here now.

My family's words helping me come to terms with that. I would not let anyone take that away from me again. I don't have a sound plan, but I just have to take every hurdle as they came. It was my way and the best plan at the moment since I had no other choice. It also helped that any onlookers that probably saw my current state would reported me as "scared and traumatized girl that is in no way a threat." My behavior these last few days behind these doors could only help to soften the mistakes I did outside of them.

I still have my concerns, but I can work passed them and get a few hours' sleep in before the big day.

I'm down in seconds; exhausted.

….

The morning begins with chaos and only gets worse. I'm collected by the prep-team at daybreak and put through a torture session that spans over the morning. By the time Cinna joins us I have already snapped at everyone at least twice; making him lose time by trying to ease everyone's ruffled feathers. He wisely makes sure that Haymitch is nowhere to be seen; only allowing Effie into the room to help prep me when lunch comes around.

Flavius, Octavia and Venia is appalled that I'm eating when I will be on camera later. I ignore them and try to inhale as much food as I can. Having missed breakfast and starving; letting Effie get in full up lecture mood before everything starts up again. It becomes apparent that Haymitch has prepared her well in what to say. Half the things out of her mouth are insults wrapped in fancy words and inquiries of my mental state, making me clench my teeth in aggravation as the hours tick by.

I miss Peeta's calm presence, but he wanted to focus more on his own today. I would have been upset if it wasn't for the fact that I also wanted some space. These last few days have been hard on us both, even if we have been able to seek each other out for comfort and support. The only one I see from his team is Portia: her and Cinna runs from room to room, making sure that their theme is holding strong. So far Cinna hasn't said anything about me fire-dress, but I hope it's the same. Octavia's and Effie's shout of surprise after lunch leading me to believe as much.

The day goes by with most off the team giving me orders how to talk, walk, behave and impress. By the time the actual interviews is about to start I'm almost relieved that it soon will be over. They have exhausted me with their constant nattering and as one by one they leave the room I get more and more relaxed. Soon only Cinna remains, Effie going to look in on Peeta for a moment.

I look at myself in the mirror. Stunned by the transformation and feeling like a doll. Flavious has styled my hair to lie across the shoulders in soft curls, going for a plain hairstyle to accentuate my face. A bit of his own flavor in it the added glitter. Octavia has put fake nails on my finger with a shiny new nail polish on them. Venia have restrained herself with the makeup, on Cinna's request. I only have a thin layer of foundation and rouge, added by a soft lip-gloss. He hasn't allowed them to do anything to my eyes; leaving me looking a bit stripped down and young.

Then Cinna finally comes in with the costume.

"What's this?" I stare at the odd dress he holds out for me.

"I had something spicier in mind at first, but thought you would appreciate looking young and a bit meek." He answered. "It has a surprise so don't worry, you will leave a mark out there."

Dread fills me. *_Another thing different_.*

"Flames?" I state lamely, Cinna smirks.

"Well, you are a girl with her own kindle. The name _~girl on fire~_ is on everyone's lips. I would be a poor stylist if I didn't market it." I give him a snort and hold out my hand for the dress, they shake slightly. The dress had a lot more approached look than the one from last time. It was still one piece long-dress that touched the floor, but the design was very different. Even the color was complete off; going in grey, black and natural white instead of red and gold. He allows me to feel it before dressing me up. It felt like air upon touch.

The dress goes over my shoulders, showing of my neck and collarbones. It's made out of muslin, almost completely see-though, with a heart shaped underdress in sot-grey. A black half-corset made out of a metallic lace goes over one shoulder and across the waist; the pattern reminds me of rocks. I look upon it and realized that the dress is sculptured after my body, but still loose enough to "give a girly" feel.

_*I wonder how it will match Peeta's costume, his old suit going in black and red.*_

I want to twirl but think better of it. Not wanting to spoil Cinna's surprise for me. Already anticipating and dreading the reaction it will get since the muslin will flow out as I move.

Effie helps him with the minor details when she comes back from Peeta.

"Think they will like it?" I ask her, looking at her reflection, suddenly feeling shy.

"They will adore you." She tells me with a smile, excitement shining from her eyes.

"They will wonder what happen to the ~girl on fire, ~ you look meek girl." A dark voice grumbles from the back, revealing Haymitch as he enters and circles me: studying me from head to toe. Judging as well as warning. I give a silent nod in greeting and reassures before looking away.

"Everyone has really gotten hanged up on the whole fire-theme. Nothing else you want to throw in there?" I joke dryly, focusing on Cinna again. He shakes his head as Haymitch give a dark laughter.

"Be thankful for what you got. You could be like most of the other tributes: forgettable. " Effie makes a noise of protest at Haymitch words before forcing him to wait outside.

"We are almost done with her. Just some last minutes check and we don't need your input, so out." She tells him in a stern tone. When the door closes behind him Effie takes a deep breath and turns to me, clapping her hand together.

"Katniss, dear. We have tried to coach you as best we can." Effie starts, signaling to Cinna to be quiet. "But out there you are on your own. Hopefully you have listened somewhat to what I've said about presentation and polite conversation."

"I've listen." I mumble before she continues, clearly not believing me.

"The most important thing is to be as natural as you can be, but at the same time present what you expect them to be looking for." Effie tells me as she put a bracelet similar to the corset on my left hand. "If you fail at this remember: Smile, be polite and move on to next topic, _fast_."

Her words remind me off Peeta's old mantra. ~_Smile until you're smiling, be pleasant until you are: never let them see the truth_~ I used to live by that at formal functions, who could have known that Effie was behind it. Only, there I didn't have to talk and be center of attention as much as now. Soon every camera in the Capitol will be focused on me and me alone. For several minutes I'm going to be forced into talking to the very people that want to kill me, while everyone else is watching.

I'm not that good.

I look to Cinna for support, wanting Effie to stop, but he looks away. He only makes a small noise of objection when Effie holds up a couple of earrings. He doesn't want to spoil the neutral makeup with bling. Effie put them down without stopping in her speech. Telling me everything she can think about, most of it already said at least two times already. I suffer through it.

Afterwards Effie's escapes the room to give last minute support to Peeta, leaving me to face Haymitch and the crowd alone. I step towards the door almost in a trance. Stopped by Cinna's hand on my arm, my pale face turns to him. His eyes are warm and sad: offering me solidarity and support. I give him a shaky smile in appreciations.

"Think they buy it?" I ask.

"If you soften your stare." He tells me honestly. "It has a sharp edge to it, filled with bitterness and fear."

"There a lot to be fearful off." I say.

"Perhaps, but it won't keep you alive."

"No. I guess not." I mummer: thinking that I recognize this conversation, trying to remember if it was the same as last time.

"Don't be someone you're not… be Katniss: only not as broken around the edges." He continues. "It will take you far, I like you after all." He tells me as he correct the corset. "Find the thing that makes you warm, safe and happy. Project it at the person speaking to you. Imagine they are…"

"...Your friend, someone that you want to speak to. Like you, or Peeta. " I finish for him, remembering his advice. I take his hands in mine, squeezing them in thanks. He laughs at me.

"You will never be like any other Katniss, so why try. Just try not to get angry at the question asked. They are curious about you, let them be."

"I will try, but it's hard. I don't know them. Love them. I'm not that good at pretending either." I say as I stare down at my feet peeking out from underneath the dress. Cinna had chosen black low-heels that made me a couple of inches higher. I resist the urge to make the dress cover them.

What I was really thinking was that the pretending whilst pretending was wearing be down. I was slowly getting overwhelmed by it all and going out there on the stage was a daunting thought; trying to remember what I already done, given away or what to give away. This was a lot harder than I originally thought, everything coming to fast and for all directions. Hearing their dying screams didn't help either.

"Then speak to me out there, or to Peeta. Or why not Prim." He says.

"Prim?"

"I have a hard time believing that you could ever be angry at her, snap at her." He explains.

"You don't know much about sisters do you?" I drawl, getting some of my bite back.

"… Then look for me in the audience, I will help you." He tells me as Haymitch knocks on the door. Time's running out. "I will be close." He drops my hands and take a step back, giving me free access to the door. I start walking, but come to a stop as I push the control panel beside the door.

"Cinna." I say as the door opens. He looks at me. "Thank you for being a friend when I needed one." I tell him before turning to Haymitch. Not getting a reply. At first Haymitch doesn't say anything as we make our way backstage, but I can feel his stare.

"I have gotten a last minute resume of your status." He finally says as we start seeing a lot more people in the halls.

"How does it look?" I inquire.

"You're a star: they love you for your sacrifice. For the way you brought something new at the parade. I hope you thanked Cinna for your unforgettable look." He informs me. "But you really impressed the gamemakers when you made the room go Boom." At this he give a raw laugh, making more than one worker glance in our direction as we pass.

"Well that's a plus I guess." I say when he quiets down. "Only the real hurdle left then. Make them love me without any concealment."

"You almost got it, the whole ~girl on fire~ theme working in your favor." Haymitch makes me stop as he tells me this, forcing me to focus on him for a second. "Now you just need to give me just a little bit more; not much, just enough to gain you favors later."

"How does it look for Peeta? Do we still have a unity-front going? Can I use that?" I inquire in a lower tone.

"Somewhat. Out there he has to shine for himself as do you. It's not smart to let them get too much out of what you already given. It will cripple you later. "

"… Does Peeta know that? He has gone for that front as much as I." I question. More for Haymitch sake then my own, he truly believe that I'm playing a game here and I don't take that away from him. He will be more effective if he believes me to be lying. Believes me to be selfish.

"Seems to, although you both have a clear weakness for one another" is the quiet reply.

"We know our odds. Why hate each other for nothing?" I retaliate, hoping everything is caught on camera. If Snow sees this later he will most likely believe that I put myself first and any emotions for Peeta second. That there was true emotions in it all, not a personal rebellion. He hadn't believed it the first time, but maybe this one will be different. It will completely change the game plan, but I believe that to be for the best.

"Mm, well there is that! And speaking of the..." Haymitch starts only to wave at Peeta whose standing further back into the room we just entered. We have reached the others and the entire backstage is filled with workers, avoxes, camera-crew and peacekeepers. The ones I notice the best though is the tributes; they sparkle like diamonds in their outfits.

Peeta is outfitted in a white-gold two-piece-suit with black shirt and shoes. He looks like a god lost in a sea of monsters. His blond hair slicked back and glowing. I get lost in his stare as he looks at me, his blue eyes piercing my soul. For a moment I stop breathing and drink him in. Then he breaks eye-contact and gazes over the room. I follow.

The kids from district four are standing closest to Peeta, leaning on a white wall and waiting for the show to start. The boy is dressed in a high collared jacket with matching shorts; it shimmers in marine-blue as he moves. The girl's styled up in a coral inspired dress, with matching shoes and hair decoration.

I see Rue's next, in a princess inspired dress going in soft yellow. Still looking like a flower. I almost smile at that. She looks beautiful and innocent. Thresh stands over her, protecting, in a sleeveless, high-collar uniform. Finch from five stands a bit offside Rue, hiding in the shadows, I can't see her fellow tribute. She's dressed up in a ruschdress, looking like a flowing river.

Glimmer and Marvel are closes to the stage; already starting to form the line for the rest of us, probably because they are the first one to go out. Marvel is dressed in a blue and white three-piece-suit while Glimmer shines in her peach-pink halter-neck dress. Her fluffy skirt could blind you since it's covered in diamonds, her over the top styled hair adding to the glimmer. Not far from them are Cato and Clove, I almost snort at their style. Cato's outfit shows his muscles and skin, going in black and metal-silver. Clove is the only one in a pantsuit, its color similar to living fire; clear rip-off of Cinna's style. Her hair is done up in an elaborate ponytail braid while Cato's stands up like a shark fin.

When I see ten I stare. Their outfit can only be described as over-the-top. Susan's skirt looks to be made out of gold chains and her bust from melted rings. Timmer on the other hand has so much leather and cow skin on him that it's a wonder he can walk. Sienna from seven appears like an oriental goddess from behind me, breaking me from my trance. Her stylist has gone for exotic patterns and sewn in gems. She joins her fellow tribute that's outfitted in a red costume and talking to the female from nine. Who in turn is outfitted in an ice inspired dress whilst her partner goes in pale green.

District three's female is in a loose purple dress with techno-plate going over her chest while the male has a plainer suit on, in bright yellow. Both from six stands next to them, also being prepped; her in a moss-green coat with a form-fitting long dress, going in chestnut; looking like an old-world pilot; Him in a white and green suit.

The last two tributes I see is eight, they have just come in by the looks of it. They, as I, are trying to take it all in and find their place. The girl is dressed in emerald green long dress, with green plates in her hair whilst he's in a pastel pink kurta with black pants.

Everyone's stylist has gone all out on the stage-costumes. Every tribute is glowing. I'm the odd person out in my simple dress with natural color. I actually disappear in the chaos around me; no one pays me any attention as Haymitch leads me over to Peeta. The paus it gives me are more than welcomed. I actually get a few minutes of breathing space before we arrive at the other end.

Peeta greats us with a smile, but are too nervous to talk. I let there be silence as Haymitch depart; leaving us to face the rest alone. He most likely wants to get a good foot in with the rich capitolists' in the audience before the other handlers. I give him a silent wish of good luck. After the interview there is nothing else we tributes can do to lore sponsor, the rest is up to our handlers and a knot ties itself in my throat at the thought. Everyone's personal handler will be out for blood tonight.

It's only minutes left before the camera turns on again and the entire capitol can see us. I have to control my nerves, the urge to run is overwhelming. Perhaps that's why Haymitch placed Peeta so close. He has glanced my way constantly ever since Haymitch left. Watching; ready to stop any potential running. I don't let my irritation show; he looks as pale as I feel. Constantly twining his hands; the interview laying heavily on his mind.

As the first interview is started up and Glimmer disappear upon the stage the rest of us forms a line. The interviews don't take long and the line shrinks fast. I listen closely to everyone, wanting to imprint the words of this children as they face death. Amazed how Caesar Flickerman charms the audience to see what he wants and not what we show. He get one thing from every tribute that distinguish them from the rest. A fact that I'm more than thankful for as Rue takes the stand.

She is nervous and scared, trying to appear as small as possible. Caesar works his magic and within a minute he has everyone paying more attention to what he lets on then what Rue actually says. He keeps her innocent and sweet, from a capitols' point-of-view. Even I am moved by the lies. When Thresh comes next Caesar adapt his play to suit the silent and stoic teen.

Then it is my turn and the urge to throw up is strong. Caesar begins the introduction by mentioning the many impacts twelve done over the last few days, building up excitement and anticipation in his viewers. I study the man as he talks, waiting for the que and wonder how such a magnetizing man can stand his work. He has lasted since his early twenties, being the longest host of these games. The others has either been killed or offed themselves.

There isn't really anything remarkable with him except for his smile and kind eyes. Neither inspire devotion or loyalty, yet he is the number one host in all of Panem; a short, slim and over tanned middle aged man that loves his midnight-colored suits. The concept is confounding; the ridiculous color-theme he has every year doesn't help either.

I'm woken from my thought by Peeta pushing me, I've missed my cue for entrée and find Caesar standing on center stage with open arms, waiting for me. I blushed from the humiliation and hurry forward. As the spotlight hits I transform into a lovely young woman, waving to the audience as they started screaming my name. _*Old tricks die hard it seems, that's comforting.* _I breathe easier as I shake Caesar hand and greet him warmly, falling into old familiar patterns and relaxing a bit. The light is so bright that I hardly see anything, yet I still attempt to flirt with the audience.

"Katniss Everdeen folks. _The girl on fire_." Caesar laugh out in the air as we take central stage. Two black chairs waiting for us. Caesar makes a move for me to sit and I look at him, showing as much teeth as him.

"Now now Caeser, you can't expect me to sit when such a charming man as yourself are standing," winking at the audience at the man's pause; making them giggle at my joke.

"We have ourselves a charmer." Caesar retaliates. "Let's be seated at the same time, for I couldn't possibly sit when such a beauty stands." We both stand before the designated chairs and look at each other.

"On the count of three?" I question, getting a big grin in return.

"On three; one, two… Three. " We both sit down with an ump. The audience laughing at our silliness. We laugh with them.

"Now, when we finally are seated, you simply must tell me Katniss how your stay in the Capitol has been like for you." Caesar ask, starting of the interview with something light, the cameras' hovering around us. "How has it differed for twelve?"

I take up a thinking position and stare into space, making sure to take my time. Keep everyone in suspense for a little longer.

"Different, different, different." I mumble, pretending to think. "Well that would be the decor I guess." At this Caesar and the audience laugh. "Here it's a lot more colorful than home, there everything goes in the color soot, even in its inhabitants." I chose my words with care, getting everyone to look at my appearance as they start chatter. Making them see how well I blend in with coal and fire.

"Now that you say… I can't remember the last time we got a blonde from twelve." Caesar jokes, building on the flames. "Well exp..."

"For Peeta? And Haymitch, if he counts." I interrupt, nodding in agreement. Salivating inside for opportunity. "They are the odd ones out, aren't they?"

"They certainly are and both very lovely." Caesar answers with a fake cough as the camera show a slouched Haymitch on the screen. The man give a crude salute and take out his flask. The glint in his eyes tell me to get on with it, I'm not even close to unique yet. "So color has been a major impact on you. Anything else that impressed you in our loving home?"

"You seem to have a thing for odd buildings." I hurry to throw out on a hunch as I re-focus on Caesar. He makes big eyes at that and look to the camera.

"Odd buildings!"

"Yes. I think I saw a cat shaped house as I came here. That we don't have back home." I try to sound young and excited whilst figuring out how to better play this to my advantage. No one seems bored at least; everyone is watching and laughing all the while I'm sweating buckets.

"You know, I think I've seen that house to." Caesar make a look of deep thought. "Is it the one that has a small lawn and a big cat-shaped pool?"

Someone from the audience screams yes and we both turn to the crowd.

"Must be, but I don't remember a pool." I say, pretending to think; not really caring about a pool. "But then it was much to see during the journey here, so much beauty and new things that I was overwhelmed." There, I have satisfied their vanity, now it is time to gain their awe, then their sympathy and lastly their love; _*work with me here Caesar, were on a clock.*_

"The Capitol can be a bit much for newcomers." Caesar nods his head in sympathy and pats my knee. I bite my cheek from saying something smartassed.

"Now, I have a question I've wanted to ask ever since the grand opening. The flames… you're costume. My heart almost stopped, tell me all about them." The man must be a mind reader, he's giving me exactly what I need. It's now or never.

"Well, when our stylist told us about them both Peeta and I was very much like; are you kidding me! Flames on clothes doesn't sound very safe and we were concerned." I start. "We even vowed to help the other if we actually started burning" At that the whole audience laugh, Caesar with them as I fake contrite.

"Did you tell your stylist that?" He asks me.

"No. I didn't have the heart to run screaming away from him as he held it out for me; but now I love it. Thank you Cinna" I take a small pause as the applauds sounds. Then I lean forward. Caesar follows. "He even promised me something even more spectacular for the next costume."

Caesar leans even closer. Everyone takes a loud breath in anticipation, we're almost touching cheeks.

"Ah, but Katniss. This is the next dress and even if it is lovely I don't see any flames." He tells me as the audience shout out agreements. We got them hooked, everyone is looking to me and Cinna, wanting answers. When the demands are at the highest peak Caesar leaves his seat and walk to the edge of the stage.

"Cinna what surprise do you have for us? Even dear Katniss doesn't seem to know." He shout, making everyone look for him. Then Cinna appears on the screen, seated at the far side of the audience, a bit back. Caesar motions for him to get up, which he does. At first he doesn't speak, but then he simple says;

"Make her twirl." Sitting down moments after. Directing all the attention is back at me.

"You heard him my darling; twirl for us." Caesar demands with a big laugh, holding out a hand for me. I take it, moving forward so everyone can see. The light hits me just right. I smile at everyone and holds out my arms. Taking on a pose of a bird ready for flight.

"Twirl" is the shout that comes from the crowd when I've paused too long.

I start twirling, holding my breath. Hoping there's no mistakes; let there be fire, please. The dress flows out, just as I imagine; creating a 'mist' around me. Then, slowly the edges starts to burn. Everyone shouts in happy surprise. I don't stop. Soon the entire dress on fire. I must look like a phoenix; the black corset gloving like lavarock, the muslin of bright fire and the underdress - blood red flames. Caesar was spurring me on, screaming for me not to stop and I kept on twirling.

In the end it was nausea that made me slow down, much to the disappointment of the crowd. As I slowed the dress turned back to its original colors. With the last flame the crowd cried out only to go silent.

"Don't stop Katniss. That was beautiful." Caesar cries out. I give him a fake laugh.

"Not for long, I would have made a horrible mess if I had gone on for much longer." My words are strengthened by my awkward walk. Caesar quickly helps me to my chair.

"That was amazing. Truly breathtaking. Don't you agree folks?" Shouts of agreement and joy echoed in reply.

"You astound me Katniss. We have only known you for such a short time and yet we love you. I simply must ask..." Caesar voice becomes somber and I know what he's about to ask, the question being how to play this. It's now I must shine. "... About your sister Prim. What was going through your mind at the time of the reaping?"

I take a deep breath, looking down. Trying to appear sad and somber. Then I lift my head and stare into empty space. Making my voice go thick and gruff for my answer.

"At first I wasn't thinking." I start, forcing forth misty eyes. "Just standing there, frozen on the spot. When I finally started to realize what was happening I couldn't not volunteer. She's too young... my baby sister; it's my job to keep her safe." The emotions are not completely fake. The thought of my sister going through a game is truly horrifying.

"A true heroic gesture. To see such love and loyalty amongst sisters warms my old heart." Caesar gives of a sad vibe, with the hint of elevation. Making the crowd feel what he want, playing right into my hands.

"She is a person worth loving" and I'm not lying about that.

"I was talking about you." At this everyone makes ohs and ahs, thinking me humble.

"Oh! Well, thank you." The humble look doesn't suit me at all, but I try it anyway. From the glint in Caesar eyes I guess he sees this, I can almost imagine him to be smirking; it's gone the next second.

"Is there another type love in your life perhaps? We have heard rumors you know." At those words my mind die; being thrown completely of the game. I'm left staring at the man, not comprehending what he's asking for.

"What?" I say dumbly, trying to catch up. This wasn't in the bigger scheme, Haymitch had told me to avoid the Peeta-topic. Me wholeheartedly agreeing. This was supposed to be about me and Prim.

"Love interest my dear, someone special you wish to tell us about?" Caesar laugh, trying to take the edge of the conversation, realizing what an unexpected question that was. My grey eyes stare into his fake purple once.

"None, really." I response at last, not coming up with anything better. My tone sounding guarded and off. I'm losing the crowd, they've gone quite; not liking the silence. It wake me from the shock and as I'm about to save some grace Caesar moves on and closes the topic.

"Ah, I see. So no love, but perhaps a promise? Didn't you promise your sister something before you boarded the train." He goes back to Prim, mostly to get the audience attention back on track. Going for the safe bet; hoping to finish of the interview with a good feeling.

"Yes! I promised her that I would try, try to get back to her. To win for her." I say, jumping on the opportunity. Trying to sound desperate, longing and lonely. Not really reaching the right tone. Inside I'm cussing up a storm for my blunder, but staving off the tantrum for when I'm back backstage.

"And try you will and we all pray that the odd is in your favor." With that Caesar gets up and finishes of the interview, much to the disappointment of the crowd who wants to know more. I leave with a weak smile and a wave. The moment the cameras veevers off I start cussing and hitting the walls, pissed beyond belief. Peeta stands not far off, watching as I try to control myself. Then he's out on the stage, beginning his interview.

I'm so upset that someone sends for Haymitch, having started breaking things now. The other tributes keep their distance, the careers are smirking. It is Haymitch grabbing me from behind and ordering me to calm down that breaks my rage.

He is beyond pissed as he forces me into a room. A pod hovers one corner, showing us Peeta and Caesar, we have missed the start of his interview. Haymitch doesn't even glance at the pod, instead he pushes me down onto the ground and stands over me. Fist clenched.

"You idiot. So **close **and you blew it." He whisper in a deadly voice. Making goosebumps appear on my arms. I'm too pissed to care.

"Don't you think I don't know that? Fucking Hell Haymitch, I just shut down out there. I couldn't help it, it wasn't in the..." I start to shout back before I stop. Hammering my fist into the floor in frustration. Almost saying too much. He gives me a fierce glare before rubs his hands over his face. Taking a minute to calm down.

"It's done. Control yourself and let me watch Peeta. I hope he doesn't screw up as badly as you." I don't argue further, we've missed most of it already. In silence we watch the rest of the interview. When Peeta reveals to Caesar his love interest the pod focuses on me and I make my damndest to look surprised and overwhelmed.

The state of my dress and hair from the tantrum helping me sell the fact of my total shock. The moment the pod returns to showing the stage I let out a fresh wave of curses. Peeta has thrown himself to the wolf once again, to keep me alive. As this sinks in I go numb, feeling weak and tired to the bone. To give me the extra edge he's giving up all hopes of survival.

I must now let him keep believing that to retain the favor of the sponsors. Letting him enter the arena without an ally. Prim is my best card and Peeta's love my backup. From now the only front I can show him is the cold, reserved, distant and pissed off one. Anything else will reveal the truth and gain us nothing. After all a forbidden love is much more desirable than a returned one. I don't want to, I want to go out there and show him that I'm here for him to.

I look to Haymitch, seeking counsel. He is stone faced, bitter and angry. This had been an emergency plan if I failed. He had hoped that Peeta could have gotten attention for himself. Now every priority would be on me henceforth. I was the safe bet and Peeta the spare. I hate myself.

"Sorry." I whisper, the man huffs. Not interested in my apologies.

"Be thankful that he is a better actor than you." Haymitch gruffly states.

"He isn't acting."

"No… He isn't. Unfortunately it's why that worked." He looks so tired, his words barely loud enough for me to hear. He turns his back and leaves. I don't follow. Choosing to stay in the room until it's time to leave. Processing my failure and what to do next. Watching Peeta on the wall as he gives soft smiles for the camera while the crowd cheers. Looking like a lost angel, suffering in the world of men. His chain being his love for me… the monster.

Then the camera goes dark.

...

That evening no one speaks at the dinner table. We eat the food presented and avoid eye contact, not even Effie dares to voice her thoughts. In the end it's me that speak first.

"You shouldn't have done that." The words come out unbidden, anger in every syllabus. A defense mechanism when I lose control.

"Yet I did. Get over it." Peeta reply and eats another piece of chicken.

Effie looks from one to the other and tether. Clearly annoyed by the coldness in our voices.

"Stop it, the both of you. Tomorrow is a big day and we don't need another argument in this room." We fall into silence, giving each other the cold shoulder.

Haymitch rolls his eyes and takes a big drink. Ignoring us as best he can.

"You deal with them Effie while I go over to the after party. See how many sponsors be willing to place money on her… them." Haymitch says as he gets up to leave. Hardly touching his food.

"Oh! Haymitch I need to go to. I have several friend that wants to talk with me." Effie says in protest, following the man to the elevator.

"Why don't the both of you leave? We can manage by ourselves." I say to stave off an argument.

"Why, that a lovely idea. Thank You Katniss." Effie then proceeds to push Haymitch into the elevator. After the elevator has started to descend I turn to the avoxes' and ask them to leave. Soon there is only me and Peeta, as well as the people watching us from hidden cameras.

"Don't start with me Kattail. It's too late to change anything and this might be my last day alive." Peeta words stop me dead, the argument dying on my tongue. I eventually just slump in my chair and just look at him. Playing with my food. In the end I say the only thing that comes to mind.

"Want to watch something completely brainless and sweetly while eating popcorn?" At Peeta's nod I order refreshment. When they arrive we relocate to the entertainment room and snuggle down on the mint colored couch. For several hours we watch different shows from different ends, the popcorn bowl between us. When it so dark you can hardly see your hand Peeta shut of the pod and look toward me.

"I'm tired."

"So am I. Bed?" I'm silently asking if he want to lay in my bed, ignoring the role that I most play. Wanting him close, to know that he's alive. He shakes his head in negative, like I expected of him. When I falter Peeta takes the lead, it has always been our way.

We go to our own rooms and shut the doors. The entire floor is dead silent. You could her a feather move. I get ready for bed and are thankful when my eyes start drooping. I will get a few hours' sleep it seems before the real hell begins. If there are gods out there they are beyond cruel is the last coherent thought I have.

...

The morning goes along the line of the previous one, the only difference being that more focus is on getting as much food in us as possible instead of styling. Effie is flying apart every two second, Haymitch is on the verge of sobriety and the prep team has been quiet most off the morning. The atmosphere is somber and heavy, the severity of what's to come weighting on everyone's mind.

When Portia finally collect Peeta to take him away for some last minute finishes everything slows down. There only a half hour left before the re-location. Cinna tries his best to keep me calm and collected. Stopping me from locking myself away or breaking down. Beyond thankful I have tried to do everything asked.

It is just as we are about to leave that I think of asking him how he perceived the interview. Having completely forgotten.

"You did well for most part. Haymitch has probably already voiced your blunders. I think Peeta did a very brave thing to help you." Cinna is quick to tell me, Flavius and Octavia voicing their agreement.

"He looked so alone and heartbroken, your blush and slumped profile adding to the star crossed lover touch. I actually cried. The poor boy." Portia tells me as I get ready to leave. Haymitch going with me and Cinna to the hover-platform.

I fake a smile for them as the doors closes, thankful for the reprieve.

Haymitch doesn't say a word, but I can practically hear his thoughts and have to resist hitting him.

As we travel to my dome I think about the many hindrances to come. I have a lot to do the next few days; get Peeta and I alive from the arena, don't start a war, but neither allow the Capitol to maintain their superiority. All the while Snow and Cato will be trying to kill me. *_Should be relatively easy._*

"Any last minute advice for me boss." I start talking manly to have something to do.

"Run like hell, keep away and don't get kill. Works for you sweetheart?" Haymitch thick of.

"Do my very best." Is the reply he gets. The urge to hit him growing stronger. Cinna remains by my side, silent and supportive. I adore that man.

Downstairs we exit the building, there is hardly a person around to see of us. All at home, sleeping after a night of partying on my expense. I get into the car designated for me and sit in the middle of the seat. Trying to control my frayed nerves, thinking about Prim as the car takes me to the hover-platform. The clock is only nine, but the hovercraft will take me to the arena long before the clock strikes ten. What is a little blood and scream with your morning coffee.

We arrive within minutes, the other tributes are getting out of their cars and bordering the hovercrafts ahead of us. The day's transportation are big, bold and shiny jewels. They remind me of manta ray I once saw when visiting Annie. Their huge motors making the ground tremble underneath me. I dread stepping onboard these things. They can travel even faster than the tribute train. The thought of going so fast is daunting. I pull the shift Cinna gave me this morning closer. Trying to maintain some heat.

It is here that we will say goodbye to our handlers and I can see several children cling to the grownups. Seeking last minute consul. I envy them. Haymitch is as huggable as a porcupine.

As soon as I'm airborne he and Effie will head for the game headquarters, where they will remain until our demise or victory. Fighting with other handler about the sponsor and making strategies. I don't envy him. It might actually be worse than what I am about to face.

Cinna goes ahead of me as I turn to Haymitch, Effie comes up from the side with Peeta. It's time to say our last words.

"Anything you wondering about? Now is the time to get it out there." Haymitch conquers, his body language tired and guarded. I shake my head in negative.

"Can you tell my father that I love him." It is Peeta. His voice is soft and filled with sadness. Haymitch only nod as Effie give away a sob. After those words he gives Effie a hug and Haymitch a handshake before he walks away.

I turn to Haymitch and open my mouth, then I close it. Thinking for a moment.

"If I die in there, tell my sister that I love her and for her to go on living." Now Effie is truly crying, we both ignore her. "And if we both die tell Peeta's mother that she is a total bitch and deserve every misfortune coming her way."

My angry words make Haymitch give a raw snort and Effie to cry out in horror, but it was words that needed to be said. I also give Effie a hug, but only nod in Haymitch direction before heading over to the gamemakers. I have tracker to receive.

The next half hour passes very fast, the journey to the catacombs was hardly noticed. I had manage to ignore everyone and everything the last twenty minutes. It is only as Cinna leads me to a stripped down room that I refocus. He holds out the outfit from last time and I get dressed without complain.

"The pants is water repellant, the sweater can resist high degrees of heat and the jacket to contain your body heat. I have tried to work every angle." He tells me. "They only gave so much, that's why the pants are loose, the sweater slim and the jacket long. Also the boots will mold after your feet and your socks prevent moisture from rutting them."

I thank him as I lace up the high boots and take the jacket from his hands. I pause as I put on the jacket, the small wound on my right arm reminding me that I will forever be traceable for the capitol from now on. I swallow the rage inside me and zip up the jacket and turn to Cinna. Best not think about it. Cinna take out the golden locket that I had left on the bedroom table. I take it without a pause, having placed it there on purpose. With some help I get it attached to the inside of the jacket.

It is ten minutes left of the clock. We will remain in the launch room until the games begin. Cinna give me some water and I drink as much as I can. Knowing that it might be a while before I can drink again.

Then the first signal to enter the cylinder rings in the room. it countdown has started. i give Cinna a hug and we say our last words before I step inside. The glass cylinder closing around me.

Only a few more seconds left.

Cinna gives me a comforting smile.

Seconds...


	10. Chapter 19

This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvelous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with.

_I make no profit..._

**Chapter 19**

The final signal rings in the room and then the cylinder is moving and slowly Cinna disappears. We have eye contact to the last seconds. I even crouch down to make it last that much longer. Then only metal walls and darkness surround me. I close my eyes and breathe; deep breaths that make my lungs ache from the stretch. Trying to become cold and focused, to banish everything else until only I exist.

I sit there in a half-rise position for the rest of the journey up, my left hand rest on the cool glass that box me in and I'm a little surprised when I feel it disappear. Instead my hand comes in contact with moving metal; to prevent injury I slowly retract and curl it to my stomach. Continue to breath; in the next few seconds I will be presented on the arena.

The air is the first thing I feel. It's a warm breeze that caress my face as the sunlight blinds me. Then I hear the birds sing in the distant and the insects flying around an open field. We are being elevated up from the ground, into the field that holds the cornucopia; the golden shaped horn build to lure its prey towards death. I can smell the lake and trees, reminiscent of my hunting-ground back home. I take a small comfort in that feeling; knowing that unintentionally Snow has built an arena perfect for me.

The joy is short lived for soon death will stain these grounds, but I swallow my apprehension and slowly rise. Focusing on my own survival and no others. I blank my face for the cameras buzzing in the sky, refusing to show weakness. The biggest hurdle at the moment is my mind; the stress and knowledge of what's at stake has taken its toll on me. Fortunately I have become calmer, my mom's words giving me strength.

The sight before me is breathtaking; in the far end of my vision a twin-mountain with snow-covered tops is presented, its long arms hugging us in their embrace. The lake's right in front of me, behind the horn and down a steep slope; cutting of any chance of escape. I hardly see it but know it's there. Behind me to my left I sense the beginning of a forest. Making the fighting-ground the center of this valley; we are placed in a half-circle around the horn, nothing but an open field for hundreds of meters. The ground made out of hard unforgiving soil and grass. No chance for hiding.

It's one of the fairer arenas really; everyone here can recognize themselves in something… except… district 12. Peeta and I don't really fit in here; there are no holes, caverns or mines for us to seek. The mountain is too far away, with too many dangers in the way to be luring. If I hadn't known how to hunt or survive in a forest I would never have survived the first time.

Claudius Templesmith's voice breaks my thoughts as it echoes over the arena. He sounds so happy that we're about to die that I almost retch.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

With those words the sky is lit up with two numbers, **60**, which are slowly being counted down. We have exactly sixty seconds to orient ourselves and make a choice; to go for the weapons littering around the horn or head for the woods and safety. Not enough time and yet too long.

My legs itch as I stand motionless on the column, my eyes darting to and from the other tributes; trying to assess the danger and any possible chance for a safe escape. Adrenalin is pumping through my veins. I'm ready to run. Towards the horn or to the forest, it doesn't matter as long as I can _move_. I can hardly stand still, all my instincts are screaming for me to run.

I have to bite my tongue hard to stay put. The pain keeping me focused. I don't want the mines to go off. I focus instead on the fact that I'm placed different in the half circle than last time. Cato is to close for comfort, so is the other careers. I must have made Snow more aware of me than I thought; I'm placed in a rat-trap.

If I run Cato or Clove will surely take the time to attack me, not willing to let an opponent get away and gain strength. But If I make a grab for the weapons I will be trapped. The thought is shilling. On the other hand, I am a lot closer to the bow-kit from this angle; I could get it much faster if I went for it rather then head for the trees. I would have a lot more room to wiggle if I could hunt.

I was almost killed by the guy from district nine the first time around because of my greed for the bow-kit, making me pause. But now he's further down. If I can get ahead of Clove or Cato I could make it. Even now the lore is almost overwhelming; my finger itches to feel that beautiful silver bow in my hands. It's right there, in front of me, a few seconds away, resting peaceful at the opening of the horn. _*What to do? What to do?*_

Twenty seconds to make a decision; death by cowardice or possible death by greed. None of them being a favorite choice. I could go for the backpack again, but can't for the life of me remember which one contains the blanket and canister.

My scanning eyes locks on to Peeta. He is nervous and moving around. Not good, he can set of the mines connected to our pillars. He looks at me and I make a show of taking a big breath and relaxing. He follows on instinct. He looks worriedly towards the bow and shakes his head microscopically, trying to warn me off again. I don't reply, looking away. He's on his own and need to realize that. Can't go on worrying about me; it will weaken both of us.

We need to begin this game separated and try to win over Seneca. _Haymitch_ needs time to sell the idea of us to the gamers. I don't know how he did it the first time, but he needs a chance to build up a story. It's a must to be able to gain a chance for the future as I know it to happen; because, in the end, I won't be the one that kills Peeta. I refuse.

~**BOOOM**~

The cannon goes off and everyone else is ready for it but me; having lost time by over thinking. I freeze whilst everyone else moves, but to my astonishment I'm not killed by the careers. Standing still made them automatically ignore me, their own instincts fooling them. They are of their columns in milliseconds, focusing on the weapons ahead and the moving targets.

I only have seconds to gain some value of my luck. Almost every tribute makes a grab for the real stuff, trying to get as close to the cornucopias opening as they dare. There is where the real valuables are; inside the horn there are backpacks, medicine, food and weapons of all kinds. No career will allow another tribute to close to those treasures. Therefore I turn my eyes to the things closest to me as I jump of.

Sprinting over to the closest bag I grab on to it. Not stopping there, running towards the next treasure; a jar of peanut-butter. The plan is to grab everything within range for the few seconds I have as advantage. I get an axe-shape object, hat and gloves that are shoved down the half-open bag together with the bread. No time is spared to look inside.

I can practically hear Haymitch shouting for me to run away and I can, from the corner of my eye, see Peeta being swallowed by the piney trees to my left. He is followed be the smaller kids who don't dare to try their luck. My speed is the one thing I have going for me now, I've already covered a lot of ground and I only need to keep moving towards the stuff farthest from the horn. I can get more before I need to seek shelter.

Then the first scream is heard and the fear hits me hard. I stop running, looking up and are horrified by what I see. The careers are armed to the teeth and have begun the bloodbath. A girl lays motionless on the ground. Her had is in an odd angle and blood is pouring from a head wound. I don't dare look to see who's killed her.

It may sound odd, since I always known it, but her dead corps makes the truth hit home and everything suddenly speeds up. Before I know it I'm sprinting away from the horn. Only I'm too late. I can feel I knife slashing over my arm as I run. I don't even think, just throw my body backwards and make the person behind me tumble over. The sound the person makes as we impact indicates that my attacker is male. I try to ignore the burn from my wound as I turn around and am faced with the boy from seven. He's stunned from my action and it gives me time to gain ground.

I rip the knife from him without pause and stab him in the knee. His scream makes several others look towards us and I don't dare to linger. I tear the knife out and clutch it hard to me, afraid to drop it. I look around enough to get my bearing and then I'm off again. As I run I'm wiping away the tears blinding me. The wound is agonizing, but easy to ignore. It is the girl's face that's haunting me.

All around me tributes are fighting, some for the thrill, others for survival. The sight is sickening. Clove is throwing her knives with perfection, tribute after tributes falls. Some dead and other mortally wounded. I remember her knives and am happy for the space between us. Cato is all the more near, stabbing at the bigger tributes with a giant sword from the cornucopia. He is covered in blood, Marvel is right behind him; making sure the fallen tributes are dead. Glimmer is close to the opening and is shooting down anyone that gets to close.

They are a deadly team and have almost annihilated every strong contestant already. Glimmer has soon spotted me moving for the trees, her arrows start flying around me and I can feel one moving right by my face. But I stay focused and soon the trees and foliage swallows me. I don't slow down though, wanting as much space between us as I can get.

Behind me I can hear scream and laughter, the bloodbath is in full swing and I hope that Rue is long gone. Soon the killing will start in the woods and then the real game begins. I have to stop myself from crying over the life lost. It feels horrible to have left so many people behind to die, but I learned a long time ago that you can't save anybody if you don't save yourself first.

I sprint for a good while before slowing down to a jog, trying to reserve my energy without losing ground. Only stopping to make a fast compress out of moss over the wound and tying it down with soft bark carved of a young birch. I decide to head for the outskirt of the arena for a few hours, before crossing back. I'm bitterly reminded of the game-makers joy in grouping the tributes together for fights and know there's no point trying to avoid the others. Better to play hide and seek then run-like-hell.

For a few hours I walk a straight path, going south, before breaking off to the east. I get a clear indication on what's south and what's north from the vegetation's, besides the river was on the west side of the valley. If I keep the mountain to my right everything should be alright. Much later the cannon start going off. It's time to announce how many people that has died at the cornucopia. It's also a signal that the careers are on the move. Last time there had been eleven casualties, this time I only hear the cannon ten times: Fourteen still in the game.

I make time to rest and remove the pack from my back, hoping to find some water. I'm horrified when I see an arrow sticking out from it. I would have died immediately if something hadn't stopped it. It was too damn close back there, and all for nothing. Again… I need to be better than this.

I open the pack to see what's saved my life and almost laugh when I see the arrow head being lodged in a rolled up emergency-saw kit, working gloves, and my peanut-butter jar. Beside those the bags almost empty; the only items in it a the small mora-knife I grabbed, a hat two sizes too large and what I had thought was a smaller axe but turns out to be… kitchen tools rolled up in a piece of fabric; a spatula, a kitchen-shredder, a fork. No water container and no weapons. Luckily I find an odd blanket at the bottom. It paper thin and light, but I'm beyond grateful. It will help keep me warm tonight. For the rest? I can use the hat as a filter, the small knife as a fishing tool and the shredder to shred food.

That together with the hunter knife and the arrow I should be able to survive.

The gloves will also be handy in dealing with climbing, digging or keeping warm. That's least something. Unfortunately the peanut-butter must be thrown away. It's filled with glass. I dare to eat some from the cap, but the rest is buried underneath a rock.

The two knives I attach to my belt and the saw-line I strap around my left boot for easy access. I stuff the gloves into my pockets and the arrow I twin into the back of the bag. Then I pack the other items and zip up. With the sun up high I head out again. It must be around two. I have several more hours before nightfall. As I walk I see traces of life all around, grateful that it's only wildlife. Rabbit spilling and bird feathers are a good signs for food, but no footprints or snapped branches is even better.

In the distant I can hear the cannon go off. One more tributes have fallen, thirteen still in the game.

…

It's around dinner-time when I start to find traces of other people. It's a deep footprint in the ground that alert's me. Around the big one several smaller footprints is shown.

_*The careers.*_

They are the only ones that would travel in a group of this size. I hunker down and scan the area. The good thing is that they don't look completely fresh. The ground around the big one is drying at the edges, but it still to near for my taste. I look around for a place to hide, feeling trapped and vulnerable.

I have tall trees around me, but they are too far apart to give me cover. The ground is covered in rock and grass, but neither high enough to hide me. I'm a sitting goose. A moment later I can hear them in the distant and curse my rotten luck. They are doubling back. I lay flat on the ground. The only chance I see is a small sloop a few feet away, but it's open ground to it and I have to find a way to cover myself before I'm found.

_*I just had to go across the forest to the water, not around it after going straight though.*_

Adrenalin is coursing through my body and my pulse going a hundred miles a minute. I want nothing more than to get up and make a break for it, but the risk is too high. Instead I get up on my hand and toes and crawl-walk away from the trail. I'm leaving clues, but hopefully not deep enough that they will notice. When I get to the small sloop I roll down as silent as I can. Hardly a sound is made.

I'm sweating heavily and am gasping for breath, close to panic, but struggling on. I'm out of direct line of sight - far from safe. The sloop hides me, but only barely. There is no room for movement. I'm already tired and this stress is weakening me further. I dig my hand into the ground and try to get as much dirt over me as I can; working hard and fast. Fortunately the ground is loose. I'm grabbing moss, grass, and stones; trying to camouflage my body.

They are getting closer; I can hear branch snapping and soft talking. They must be able to see the area I'm in now. They are going back the same way they come so they won't get lost. Shit. I'm afraid to keep digging into the ground. Only, I don't dare to stop; I can feel how close they are. I will be killed if I stop. I have covered my face, clothes, boots and hands in soil. I'm as covered as I can be, but still I keep on piling on more.

Soon I can hear them on the path over me. They are right there. I stop breathing, thinking, moving. I don't dare open my eyes, afraid to find them smirking at me. The people back at the capitol must be thrilled, seeing me so exposed.

"Did you see the face of that kid? He was - oh no, I'm about to die." It's Marvel, he's laughing. I can imagine him so near that I almost feel his breath on my face. His words make me cold with anger. I control the urge to kill; mostly because the gamemakers probably already preparing another canon just for me.

"That was a good one, but I loved that small girl that was like – please don't kill me, I can help you." Clove replies, mimicking the tribute fallen, getting a laugh out from the rest. Taking joy in the lives lost.

"Yeah! As if we would need such a little shit." Glimmer says condescending.

They keep talking about their kills, Peeta doesn't seem to be with them and worry sets in. I don't have visual so confirmation is unattainable, but from the sound of it is two bigger males, a smaller one and two females standing overhead. The fact that neither of those are snapping any branches or stumbling over invisible obstacles leads me to believe Peeta to be elsewhere. The thought takes my focus from the careers proximity, preventing me from panicking.

What amazes me more is that not one of them has taken the time to look for tracks and soon I hear them walking away. They must be too high on adrenalin from the recent kills to keep a proper lookout. Still I don't dare to move even after they long gone, afraid off a trap. It's almost pitched black before I finally force myself to get up.

Frozen to the core and shaking to spread warmth I take in the land; everything is quiet, covered in darkness and calm. The feeling of aloneness is a comfort, it makes me brave and secure in its familiarity. The camera-pods are probably focusing on the careers and other survivors right now; already having had their fill of me. I take my time to massage the feeling back into most body-part before setting out to find a shelter. Tree climbing is out, my limbs to stiff and cold. it's the ground for this night at least.

After about an hour of walking the sky lights up; it's time to show us the fallen ones'. The first is the dead girl I saw; it's Amber from district three, only fourteen, followed by Azora and Sebastian from four. Their young age makes my heart ache for their families. Then Dean from five appears and after him; Tamara and Jason from six, Wallace from seven, Savannah and Lee from eight, Demetria from nine and Susan from ten. All of them so young.

The screen goes dark. Left in the game is Cato, Clove, Glimmer, Marvel, Noah, Finch, Sienna, Craigh, Timmer, Rue, Thresh, Peeta and I.

Beyond relieved when Peeta's picture doesn't appear I start walking again; hoping that I'm still keeping to the east, the night disorienting me a bit. I still had some concerns regarding Peeta; it was troubling that he hadn't been with the careers. Hopefully he will survive the first night and join them in the following day. The thought is sickening because it will mean blood on Peeta's hands, but it is a necessary evil so he better manage it. He won't last on his own in this forest and I can't help him.

Hunger finally setting in I use the knife and saw to cut away some bark from a nearby pine tree to get at the soft inner bark. The taste leaves a lot to be desired but keeps me from feeling the hunger. I also eat mushrooms found on a dead log, recognizing them to be non-poisonous. Chewing I think over the situation; depression being one of the main concerns at the moment. It can shut down your system and kill you faster than anything else. Cold being the other problem; it will be biting cold when the dark sets in and I don't have an efficient blanket.

The second problem is solved when I come across a huge thornbush, leaning up against an oak. After examining the innards I'm convinced it could be made into a fine shelter; its roots being spread out from the start. To get some more good spirit I make a trap for rabbit before getting to work; hoping to get some meat for the next day.

The small chainsaw makes quick work of the tough branches, the thorns hurts, but with the gloves I make due. Also it will give me added protection from animals. Then the inside gets softened by moss, leaf and dirt; making a nest for my small body. I work hard and efficient; after some time I'm satisfied that it will keep me safe. After checking the area one last time I crawl in; covering myself with the blanket first, then with leaves and moss. I practically disappear into the ground.

I would have preferred a tree, but beggars can't be choosers. Soon after I'm asleep, semi-warm and tired to the bone. Only waking once during the night when the cannon goes off. I fall asleep once again after Sienna's picture is shown, hardly sparing her the respect she deserves.

...

I wake from a sudden sound at the wee hour of the morning, the sun barely breaking the tree tops. There is someone close and I make damn sure that I'm still covered, even if all I see is the long shadows covering the forest floor.

What I can't see I hear all the better.

Someone is close and not walking very quietly. It seems to be a lone creature, from the pause between steps it must be an injured human. Cussing I grab the knife. Ready to defend myself if need be. Knowing that the gamemakers will make us fight if it's to their amusement. Hopefully they have gotten enough from the past day, willing to save on the action until later.

I stop breathing as the person stop nearby my bush; fearing the worst. Not willing to take a life or risk my own, but knowing it might be necessary. When I realize it is Thresh I'm filled with dread. The only way to bring him down is the element of surprise, and that's an off chance in itself. He must have gotten lost after the initial bloodbath, he's far away from any land known to him. Wonder what has made him walk this way.

The smell of blood hits me. He is wounded and badly. From the slumped form just a few meters away it must be bad to. His silent moans make the ache from my own wound come to life. Suddenly it feels like it's on fire and the urge to join Thresh in the moaning grows. I manage to keep my tongue, being thankful for the cover I have. Thresh could kill me with one hand if he found me, the thought is shilling.

Then the situation goes from bad to worse. Thresh is piling up loose leaf and branches, he's going to make a fire. The thought is terrifying. The careers might be close and it's still too dark. They will see us for miles, shrinking the survival chances for us both exponentially. In the end as he tries to make a spark I have no choice but to gamble.

I turn onto my stomach as silently as possible. Dragging myself millimeter from millimeter to the opening. When I get there I press my body to the three behind the bush and crawl out. Thresh is so focused on the fire that he doesn't notice me. I'm ready to make a run for it when he lets out a cry of pure pain, stopping me dead. I turn slowly to get a better look at him.

He has gotten a small fire going, sealing his fate. He is covered in dirt and blood, someone else's probably. From what I can see he has a deep slash going over his left leg, probably why he walked so slowly. At his side a deadly looking machete lies, dark from dried blood. Minutes tick by and I find myself unable to leave him. His pain getting to me and soon the most insane idea I ever had forms in my mind. The even more insane thing is that I'm going to act on it.

"If you put out the fire I'm willing to help you." My words are quiet but Thresh hears them. He gets up faster than I thought possible, machete in his hand and are ready to fight. I don't come out from behind the tree. The light from the fire has blinded him from seeing and I use it to my advantage. "I'm not going to hurt you… but I will defend myself."

"Who's there?" Thresh demand in a loud voice. I hush him in irritation.

"Put out the fire you idiot and keep quiet." My voice has gone hard and angry. He seems too noticed from the glare he sends out into the dark. "You might want to die, that's your business, but I want to live so what about not signaling to every tribute where you are." The sharp edge to my words could cut.

Thresh actually lowers his eyes to the fire and look sheepish. Probably just know thinking about the careers. He quickly stumps out the fire that has just started to take form. The morning twilight giving me chills. I can see him a lot better now and he has finally found me. We don't speak for several minute, just staring at each other and waiting for a move.

"What do you want?" He finally asks, guarded and angry. Not liking that I was so close.

"At this moment? To help, be allowed to get my things and not be killed. You?" I say as a matter of fact. He doesn't seem willing to kill me and I take some relief from that.

"Not be killed and get the fuck out of here. I hate forests." Is the answer I get.

"Well, that's good. What about a truce for the next hour and I patch you up?" I ask, he gives me a nod in agreement and on a silent signal we both bury the weapons in the trees next to us. We are not relaxed, both refusing to let the other out of sight. I have to tell him several times what I plan to do before he lets me. I almost blush as I tell him to lose the pants, but get over it when I see the severity of the wound. It already smells and I'm worried about gangrene.

I tell him to get ready for some real pain, it needs to be cleaned. Thresh doesn't sound happy but do as told. He bites down on his jacket and drill his hand into the ground. I'm forced to use my own spit to clean the wound, making sure to get as much as I can before starting to scrub at it with some wet leaves. Thresh screams into the sweater and starts sweating heavily, but don't stop me. As I work I channel Prim and try not to vomit at the gore. I'm efficient and quick, being able to handle a lot of wounds now do to the war curing most of my disgust.

As I work Thresh tries to relax as best he can, listening to me telling him the importance of getting it seen to better, later. What I use is temporary, what he needs is some white moss to use for compress. It will suck up the blood and keep away bugs. That and some sterilized water, the wound can't be allowed to get dirty again or he will die from it. I do what I can and even sacrifice my small piece of fabric to use as bandage. I use some resin* to cover the wound, it will hide the smell and keep away dirt. It will also glue the fabric to the wound and avoid it being exposed to the elements.

When I'm done I collect my thing and get ready to head out; happy that I don't have to leave anything behind.

"Thank You." Thresh whispers as he leans on the tree. Looking like a fallen warrior. I give him a nod in response, strapping on the bag.

"That will not be enough, but it won't kill you faster." I say, moving away from him, towards my knife. Not willing to risk leaving it behind.

"I will remember… Do you have water?" He asks after some thought. I shake my head in negative.

"No. No food either. You?" I get a negative reply, making me pause. "If you need better ground to survive I think you have high grass and open landscape in that direction." At this I point towards the clearing area, away from the mountains and the deep forest.

"How can you tell?"

That is a good question and since I don't want anyone to know… How to play this off?

"The mountains are ahead of us and several animals have gone that direction." I demonstrate by showing him the droppings of deer's laying behind him; the trails pointing north. "They like open space and the clearing was in opposite direction from the tops so..." Here I pretend to think about it; trying to appear a bit dumb.

"... You should just head back and you should be fine. You should be able to find it easy enough." At that I finally leave; avoiding to head east as a start, not wanting him to now my real direction. What I left unsaid is that he will need water long before he reaches open land, but there is a point when my generosity won't go further. He has to make it on his own. After all he probably plans to use my bush as a sleeping place; if he dares. How more nice can you be, and I'm leaving a rabbit trap for him to find. It should be good enough.

I walk in a northerly direction until daybreak before heading east again. There should be water up ahead, less than a day's walk. I make sure that no trace that he or another can follow. I eat what I come across as I walk; bark, grass, berries and mushrooms. None is enough, but it keeps me from starvation which is good. I need the little fat that I got for what's to come. The thirst I feel being firmly pushed aside.

[_*__**Resin**__ is nothing you should use on a wound. It merely something I'm using for this fanfic. White moss (the kind we have in Sweden) helps with bleeding though… ]_

…

Its late day and I'm beginning to get severely dehydrated, having walked for hours in a zick-zack pattern to avoiding other tributes. Seeing evidence of them here and there. Luckily I can orient on these lands better than the others, being the one hunter from twelve working to my advantage. Not mentioning the fact I'm already acquainted with the arena. The trace of coming water is clear; the trees are greener, there is more wildlife and more variation of birds. The signs keep my spirits up, but I am worried.

Depending how bloody yesterday was and what kind of killing the careers has done _this _day will mark how many days of calm we a sure to get. If the audience is pleased we can have more than two days before the next death. If not, well, the day is young. One thing I can be sure about is that the next one is going to be natural.

Death isn't random in the arena, because nothing get passed the gamemakers. Seneca Crane hold all of our lives in his hands, he might not control the outcome but he set up the stage. A sudden stream for example can derail a tribute and lead him to another's camp, thus forcing a fight to break out. Thresh and I would have been forced to fight if I hadn't been allowed to leave the bush. A sudden noise could have warned Thresh, making him stab at the bush before I could offer a truce.

It's a good sign that they only want excitement today, not death.

I've long suspected the careers of getting guidelines before entering the arena. They are too good at keeping enough alive to make it interesting. What else can possibly keep them from killing us all otherwise? It would explain why Peeta was allowed to live the first time around and why Rue suddenly got caught in the net when she had been so careful. Most likely the reason why I haven't found water yet; it should be very close, if no one has change the direction of the mountains… can they do that?

Then I hear them. The buzzing, freezing me in place. Around me are trees, same as before, but isn't that dead tree up ahead very familiar. I slowly walk towards it, the buzzing getting louder. When the first Tracker jacker appears I take my time studying it. It is collecting pollen from a flower, its fellows close by.

The thing about Tracker jackers is that they won't attack if you keep your distant. This is why I take several steps back and circle around the tree. As I move I keep a look out for the nest, wanting to get a clear look at the hive. It is only spotable from a distant, the thick branches hiding it otherwise.

It is a beautiful hive, big and prosperous; Tracker jackers flying all around the nest, keeping guard. I watch for a few more minutes before leaving, not wanting to risk a sting; its hallucinogenic poison would keep me from the finding water and if I remember correctly it is just behind the tree. No fireballs leading me this time.

After some more walking, very cautiously since the careers could be close, I finally find the stream. At the sight of the clear glittering water I almost give a shout of joy. Quickly I throw my bag into the brushwood, the jacket and shoes following, before getting in. Letting a quick scan be enough, wanting to drink myself full and get soaked.

The water is cold and refreshing, the current being calm. I take my time, enjoying the peace. When I've quenched my thirst and gotten most of the dirt off I let the sun dry me of. As I lay hidden behind a couple of rocks, keeping an ear to ground, I start thinking of the next step.

More than 24 hours has gone by, I'm still alive and so is Peeta. The cannon has been silent except for Sienna, meaning that the gamemakers will focus more on our survival for the day. The respite give me comfort. I will have time to set up a camp, somewhere that I can store the most vital things. The cave would be a good spot, but if the gamemakers decide to come after me it will be the first thing found by the careers. Better save it to later.

After finding a camp I need to make hunter tools. For the day I will settle for a fishing-spear. The stream is deep enough for fishes and oyster. I should be able to get food and build a fire to cook it. Then tomorrow I have to solve how to preserve and transport water. A jar would be great or a canister, but having neither leaves my father old back up plan; which means I will have to stay close to the stream for the next day or so, putting me in a higher risk as the hours go.

When my clothes have dried enough I get to work. The first thing to do is to relocate to a better spot. I find one downstream, near the big river. A landscape of big rocks that could hide a person from every angle, the problem being that danger is hidden just as well. After some looking I find a half-cavern hidden in the sloping ground, formed by four big boulders that gives me peepholes to east, west and south. It just big enough and after some heavy lifting I have hidden it even better.

I fill the wet floor with leafs and branches, making sure no trace is left. The rocky ground before me has many holes and I find one big enough for a fireplace. I make sure it is plenty deep and easy to cover at any sign of danger. The location isn't the best, but it fills my needs. The ground doesn't leave prints, the stream is just to my left and it is hard for anyone to see the "cavern".

When shelter is done I focus on the food. I take out the mora-knife and the real knife, a plan forming. Heading inside the wood I look for several long branches, wanting bark that is strong, yet peelable. After finding some I harvest up high, directly in the tree. Both for cower and to preserve energy. If I had taken the ones lower any other tribute passing would know I was near.

Hidden away behind thick trees I spend an hour on peeling strip of bark from branches, getting long and beautiful fiber strings to make a rope out of. When I have enough for my purpose I clean up after myself and head back.

By the time I'm back it has become late afternoon and my stomach is screaming for food. I ignore it and sit amongst the brushwood and twin my rope, making sure to get it right from the start. When I have a good enough rope, being strong and long, I lay it to the side.

Taking out the hunter knife I set to work on a stick collected on the way back, it's about a meter long and three cm across. I use the knife and a rock to make a U at the top, strapping on the mora-knife and tying the rope around it. I have now made a fishing-spear; time to hunt myself some dinner.

After some looking I find a spot at a mellower part of the stream, near a strong draft. The fish seems unperturbed by my presence and are calmly swimming around. The trick now is to get the fish at the first strike, making sure to leave as much of the water undisturbed as possible. That way the other fishes won't realize what happening.

I make a couple of tries a bit away from the chosen spot, wanting to get a feel of the new tool. After a couple of tries I feel confident enough. I take up position on a flat stone, one foot in the water for extra balance. The wait that comes is well worth it, in just a couple of hours I have about five young salmon. Happily I make the way back; finding the camp undisturbed I start fillet the fish. Food is ready by sunset and I make sure to put out the fire before it starts showing in the lime-light. With a full stomach I bed down for sleep, hiding my opening carefully with several medium sized rocks.

Soon I'm down for the count; content on a full stomach and re-hydrated. Sleeping easy as the night falls upon the valley.


	11. Chapter 20

This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvelous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with.

_I make no profit..._

**Chapter 20**

No one dies during the second night. Meaning that at least one death will occur today. I'm proven right as the cannon goes off soon after daybreak; awakening me. As I glance up at the sky Craigh's image is shown; he was fifteen years old. I close my eyes in sorrow. Breathing in the scent of molding leaf and wet rock.

The belief that I could have saved him hits me hard, as with all the others. It would have been easy to die instead of them, but where would that leave Prim? Alone and exposed, an easy prey for the monsters back home. I owe it to her to try.

With that though serving as my reminder I push the guilt aside, getting dressed and ready for a busy day. I know what I feel is survival guilt, something that is common for people to have in such an extreme situation. Having struggled with it before I use the tools given to me to push it aside.

The fact that both my sister and Peeta depends on me gives me strength to carry on. Also, I am not a god; I may have a general idea what's going to happen, but that doesn't give me the power to change it; at best I can influence certain bits, something I'm just starting to realize. The irony here is that I actually _had _more power the first time these game took place, because then I had no idea of the outcome and the cost.

It doesn't help against the darkness spreading inside me, but it gets me up and out of the small cave. As I crawl out I can feel how the sun has started warming up the rocks; it will be a warm and sunny day, making a fire hard to spot. Which is perfect to get some hot breakfast before facing the day.

I find some oysters and edible algae, which are boiled with the help of hot rocks. A trick I learned from Annie; she use to place rocks underneath a fire to heat them up and then dropped them in a water bowl. It is a bit bland, but fills the tummy. It may be a tricky survival method, but using the flintstones found yesterday I can quickly build a proficient enough fire.

After getting some much needed energy I head into the woods to do more carving. This time using a thicker piece of branch; carving out the innards, making it into a canteen. For sealment I use a stopper, resin and birch-bark. It is a hard work, but rewarding. It takes me a couple of hours to do, but it keeps the mind calm. When done it holds about a liter of water, which is good for it will make traveling easier.

When the canteen is filled I wash my face and neck, changing the moss on my wound and check for infections. Relieved not finding any; it's healing well. After I'm done I just relax for a couple of minutes before braving the forest and its many dangers. Taking comfort in the knowledge that I'm one of those dangers.

Hopefully the gamemakers won't realize the camp is a decoy in case they are sending other tributes after me; that way any trap is more likely be around the water then near my actual position. Giving me the advantage.

With the sun kissing the tree tops the entire forest floor is filled with light and shadows, creating a magical image of peace and tranquility; none of which I'm feeling since the career-pack most likely are on the prowl. For every minute I walk in this beautiful scenery I expect being killed or attacked. Keeping my knife firmly in my hand, ready to defend myself.

The constant vigilance tests my nerves and as a result I make several traps to throw any followers of trail. Forcing myself to stay mobile as much as possible. As the hours tick by I am surprised that no more cannon shots has echoed over the arena. For certain one of the other tributes should be in mortal danger by now, it is day three after all.

When noon comes and passes without anything happening real anxiety set in. To keep busy I twin a firm rope from tall grass as I walk. The process is more difficult than that of bark, but just as rewarding; it keeps my mind from thinking too much and my trembling hands busy. In the end I have about three meter of rope that will hold my weight come night.

Unfortunately is doesn't cure my anxiety.

By late afternoon I'm sick with worry. I can't even keep down the blaeberries growing near a field of fern. The most likely cause being that by now I should have been up in a tree, burned and in mortal danger. Instead I'm sitting on a rock and letting the sun caress my face, listening to the bird singing for each other; waiting for my stomach to calm down.

The difference is welcomed, but terrifying in its unknown. Soon I can't handle it any longer and decide to head for the clearing. A stupid plan, but I need to know what's happening and the best place to start is at the packs home base.

What's making me brave enough to follow through with such a foolish plan is my training from thirteen; it taught me how soldiers act and think, giving me the advantage since I'm a huntress. I play by completely different rules.

...

It takes me a while to find the river that splits the valley in two, leading from the mountain tops down to the lake. It is big, ice cold and dangerous, which is why I avoided it as much as possible the first time. Too many dangers, both along its sides as in it.

The current can sweep away with the most experienced swimmer and if not that - predators, both human and animal, seeks its life source. After finding it and refilling the canteen I cautiously start walking downstream; knowing it will lead me to the clearing.

It would be faster to take the forest route, but more risky by far. I might reach the clearing with the sun still up, making me an easy target. It's better this way, the arrival will be after nightfall and they won't be looking to the lake; focusing more towards the forest.

This plan is suicidal at best and either path can lead me right into a trap, so to be even safer I walk a bit away from the river; letting the forest hide me. I'm willing to take every precaution, hopeful that I might change my mind before arriving. I wouldn't even attempt this if not for the unknown bothering me so much.

As I walk more and more signs of other tributes appear. Their trace being obvious and easy to avoid, all leading to the water. Thankfully I have my canteen so I don't have to brave the riversides more than once. Choosing my spot carefully since most tributes are killed near water; it being the best place to ambush another.

It isn't until I come upon a green meadow that problem starts to arise. My instincts stopping me. At first there is nothing worrying to see; just an open field with some bushes, trees, tall grass and some fern. What makes me pause is the fact there isn't any visible footprints anywhere. The area is completely untouched and that raises warning flags.

I could try going around just to be safe, but that would throw me off the path and risk a run in with another tribute. After cautiously testing the ground ahead with a tall stick I very carefully step out. Keeping me eyes and other senses open. At first nothing happens and I slowly relax.

I'm almost halfway over when the first sign of trouble appear. My left boot sinks down a few inches upon a step and when I lift it to check why the ground slowly pans out. The realization of the danger hits like a bolt as the right foot starts sinking next. It's a swamp. Already the bushes, grass and ferns are disappearing into the ground.

In the millisecond that follows a million thoughts pass my mind. The loudest being that the gamemakers won't allow me to run back and ahead lies only death. The only option being the trees, the one thing not sinking.

As I begin to sprint for the nearest tree I can feel my boots sinking more for every step; hindering my mobility. My breath is irregular, my legs aching from the struggle and my vision is blurry because of the panic.

Before the swamp can swallow me whole I use what the little ground I have to my advantage. Thankfully I'm lightweight, meaning that I don't sink to fast. I have just enough time to use what little strength left in me to jump; feeling the ground give way underneath me. Aiming for the tree standing tall right in front of me.

I only barely make it. Fortunately the tree is small enough for my desperate hands to grasp on to. The bark is soft and my fingers sink into it while the lower half of my body disappears below the surface. There is no more resistance, everything that was once firm ground has turn into a murky and thick water.

For a second I almost lose my grip, my hands and arms being weakened by the panic. Somehow I find enough strength to cling on. However that isn't the end of my troubles. For every movement done the tree moves. Making it a real possibility that it will sink as well, taking me with it.

After a lot of wobbling it stops. The immediate danger of drowning being staved off. The cold and slimy water seeps into my clothes and weighs me down, but I refuse to let go. My fingers are bleeding from the death grip, the bark cutting into my hands and breaking my nails. I resist the cry of pain; who knows what else they planted here. The thoughts of crocodiles swimming around beneath me is a horrifying possibility.

The mere thought of carnivores make the panic go cold. I can hardly breathe because of the fear or help the tears that comes, having lost all semblance of control over my emotions. The adrenalin rush the only thing that keeps me going as I have a small breakdown. When the strain on my arms starts growing I look for a way out of here. Knowing that my body can only take so much.

I need to get out of the swamp-water as soon as possible, meaning that I need to find the energy to climb up the tree… without losing my grip or tipping it over. Swimming is out of the question, the water to treacherous and thick.

The first thing I try is to climb up using my feet's. When the tree starts sinking as a result I stop. Next I try heaving myself up using my arms. The tree starts swaying dangerously as more of my weight is put on it. Forcing me to stop once again. *_So they won't allow me to climb.*_

Despair starts to set in. The danger growing as my arms start cramping. Then I can almost hear Haymitch voice. Telling me to calm down and think; to analyze the situation and deal with it, to stop reacting to everything. I take lungful of breath, forcing air into my system: letting it calm me down.

When I can think again I start going over my chances and options. The gamemakers wouldn't build a swamp like this without an escape route, otherwise I would already be dead. This fact makes me focus harder on the area. What am I missing?

The meadow has now turned to a green swamp, its stinky water irritating my nose, eyes and skin. There is no other life but me, not even bugs. It is deadly quiet and the only thing around me, other than the water, is the trees.

That oddity gains my attention. Why can the trees survive here if there is no ground? And how come that it sink only a tad bit when I tried climbing it? My answer comes in the form of a breeze. It sweeps over the swamp, shilling me as well as making the surrounding trees sway.

I stare in shock at the tree ahead of me. It just moved. The realization almost makes me lose my grip, making me sink a couple of inches. With the water now up to my chest I continue to stare at the trees. There! Another breeze and another movement. The trees are floating islands, buoys for the desperate.

After my revelation the tricky part comes: swimming without losing hold the thing keeping me alive. Already exhausted and near the limit I start to paddle, testing the resistance and my movability. The theory holds when the tree actually travels forward a couple of inches, but it took a lot of effort on my part.

To get out of the swamp I'm going to be forced to use every bit of willpower that I have. The tree will not be moved lightly. Bringing to question how badly I want to live and the cost for trying? If I survive I will be extremely vulnerable for hours.

Then again, giving up isn't an option either! So I clench my jaw, direct my stare to the front and start paddling. Refusing to think about anything except for the next kick. It takes me a while before I get the hang of how to paddle with a tree. My grip is awkward and every muscle is screaming in pain, but I stubbornly continue kicking.

It takes over two hours: two hours of nothing but pain and agony to travel a hundred or so meters to shore. I'm sweating, my muscles are cramping and my breath is strained. Many times I want to stop, to just give me a few minutes, but I don't dare. If I stop I won't be able to continue.

The feeling that comes over me when I start feeling ground underneath me feet is indescribable. Complete and utter euphoria being the closes thing. Happily I breathe in the forest air, clean and fresh. I can hear the birds ahead and the sound of insects. I use the last of my energy to paddle the remaining distance to safety. Not letting go of the tree until I come across rocks and tussocks.

My arms and hands screaming in pain as my death grip loosens around the tree trunk. Worn to the very bone I crawl my way up from the swamp and as my feet leaves the water it changes. The land being transformed from a swamp into a meadow once again. Grass, ferns and bushes springing up all around it. An illusion of safety for the next unfortunate victim.

I hardly pay it any attention, to focused on the area ahead of me. I barely have the sense to look around. Only the fear of other dangers gives me that last bit of energy too listen for other tributes. If anyone has seen my struggle they know I'm a sitting duck, too weak to fight.

Luckily I hear no sound of approaching steps. When I'm sure that my death isn't imminent I allow myself to fall into an exhausted slumber. My hands, arms, legs and body needing the time to recuperate.

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Several hours go by before I wake up; the pain being the first thing to registrate, the next is the thirst. After some cautious movements I manage to get a hold of the canteen and break the seal, almost crying when I find the water polluted. Now I will have to force myself to walk down to the river or else I will be unable to survive.

The thought of getting up is unbearable. I look for a nearby camera and after finding one I plead to Haymitch to send water. Nothing comes which means he won't waste a gift on mere water. Not with it being so close.

With my body worn to the bone I force it to rice. Falling several time before succeeding. The need for water overcoming my current state. With shaking legs and trembling hands I stumble through the forest, looking for the river. It is impossible to be quiet, for every step I snap a branch, stumble into a tree or give a shout in pain.

When the river finally appear I'm practically crawling to it. Forgetting to lookout for others, the need to get clean and rehydrated taking priority. I gulp down the water faster than I can swallow, letting the coldness soothe my parched throat. When my thirst is quenched I crawl into the water next, letting the river wash the stench off of me.

I lose time of how long I lay there in the water, letting its biting coldness cleanse my very being. Only sitting up when the sun colors the sky red and darkness kisses its edges. I don't get out of the water, even if I should, instead I turn my attention to my injuries. Many of my nails are broken and feel like open wounds; the knife wound on my arm is red and irritated. I spend a lot of time cleaning them carefully, hoping that no infection will set in. Taking as much care as I can.

The blood soon lures a northern pike to investigate. I study the fish as it circles me, looking for the injured animal it can sense. The chance for meat makes me focus and I try to find a way to capture it. Placing my bleeding fingers between my legs and when it is between them, almost nibbling on my fingers, I snapped them close. Somehow managing to trap it between my thighs. I use my hands to snap its neck, grateful that I will have some food.

I sit there in the water and salivate over my luck. The only problem being that now I had to find the energy to make a fire. The mere thought of doing more labor brings despair. I can hardly make my body leave the water, much less look for firewood.

In the end I manage to drag myself up to shore and take of my clothes and unpack the bag; placing the things inside out on the ground to dry. Using the sunburned stones littered around me to (hopefully) speed up the process. I force myself to file the pike and eat it raw. Its chewy, bloody and rubbery flesh soothing some of my hunger.

I take the rope twinned from grass and together with surrounding greenery I wrap it all around my body for warmth. It won't be much in the way of shelter, but I have hardly any strength left and it will have to do. I curl up on the riverside and take cover underneath some low growing ivy.

My plan is shot to hell and tomorrow I'm going to pay for it; tired, worn out, wounded and trapped in hostile territory I'm going to be forced to use every brain cell I got. The gamemakers will force a confrontation of sorts and the most likely target is me, due to my own foolishness.

Sleep doesn't come lightly and when I do fall asleep I only have nightmares.

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I wake just after daybreak. Feverish and thirsty, but alive. I drag myself in my wrapped cocoon down to the water and drink from the river. When I'm satisfied I start unwrapping the rope and throwing away the greenery, letting it flow downriver with the current. My energy level is better, but I am sick. My wounds from the previous day has gotten infected and I have a slight fever.

To prevent further infection I force myself to open the wounds and clean them out. The process is painful and nauseating, but in the end the blood is clear and the skin looks a bit better. Now I only got to keep it that way. A sound is heard and when I look up a parachute container is sailing down toward me. It's a thing of beauty with its silver structure and shape of an apple; the gift of life.

With grateful and shaking hands I catch the container and open it. Its two half falling away in my hands, revealing a small bag filled with some brown powder and a tin. The herb smells awful when I sniff it and the tin holds a clear gelé that I recognize: it's healing-paste. A note from Haymitch lays in one of the container halves: "Drink and rub - live. _H_"

My legs are tired, but they carry me just fine and after getting dressed in the mostly dry clothes I set out to collect firewood. I have to make a warm compress to prevent the infection from becoming more serious than it already is. I take one of the container-halves, its deep enough to be used as a bowl for boiling water.

I have enough after some scavenging and soon a weak fire is built. I hurry to use the boiled water to sterilize the wounded areas before applying the paste, using the remaining water to stir down the brown power. It taste even more horrible than it smells, but I keep it down.

The effect is instantly; the heated and pale skin was turning pinkish, my vision was becoming clearer and I felt perkier. I even manage to catch some crabs and hidden clams to boil, happily using my new bowl. There is even some meat left of the northern pike to fry over the fire, which will give me plenty of snack for the road.

Since it is day four I don't want to linger too long, as soon as the food is done and everything is re-packed I get ready to head out. As unwell as I am it would be foolish to stay here, it's to open. If I walk with plenty of breaks I should be able to keep out of trouble and find better cover.

I head in the direction of the horn. It might have been smarter to head back to the river camp, but the horn holds everything I need. The forest might be able to sustain me, but I am severely weakened and need more medicine, provision and weapons… I only have to get to it.

This time when heading out I stay much closer to the river, not daring to face the area around me. I never did explore this part and I already paid a heavy price for being too cocky. The good thing about all this is that I've gotten a bowl and the people back home has gotten a lot of entertainment because of me. The question now is if anyone else has been as entertaining or more so. This is a game after all.

I think about that as I walk. From the clips I saw at the coronation of victors Cato had gotten a lot of time, as had Glimmer, Thresh and Peeta. Cato for his brutality and looks, Glimmer for her petite way and killing lust. Thresh for his strength and smarts; one of his traps had almost killed Marvel, he only survived by luck. Peeta for his star-crossed-lovers-act and charm.

My actions should win over theirs; I had helped a fellow tribute, made traps and tools, survived the swamp and showed a _**lot **_of skin. Unfortunately I can count on it, the capitolist get easily bored and change favorite daily. Today Haymitch may have gotten me a gift, but tomorrow was another matter entirely.

After walking for about an hour I start hearing strange sounds in the wind. I stop behind a tree to scout the area. Not willing to take any more foolish chances. At first all I can hear is the birds, squirrels and insects and all there is to see is the forest; big, open, lush and green. Then the sound of metal hitting metal starts to seep through.

It sounds as if there's people up ahead and they are most likely fighting. I can vaguely hear people cheering and laughing. A deep anger starts growing inside of me as realization sets in. There is a duel going on and it can only be staged by the careers. No other tribute would start such a foolish alteration; too much chance and little gain is in it for the winner. Meaning bad news and I'm too close to it.

This area is now a hot zone and I...*_fuck_*, would've retreated if not for the sound of cameras focusing in on me. I close my eyes in irritation, of course I should be noticed and now I had two choices; leave and appear weak or stay and appear stupid. The stupid wins as any sponsor watching would abandon me on an instant if I left.

I slowly walk straight ahead. Making sure to stay hidden as much as possible. There is no scout to be seen, but that doesn't mean there isn't any around. Hopefully any spectators is too interested in the game to spot a tired Katniss Everdeen.

The more I walk the more I hear; other than steal hitting steal a swooshing sound can be heard; a blade cutting through air most likely. Then I come to a deep slope that leads into a cliff-landscape. Hardly a tree for miles, only black and brown rocks covered in moss. It makes it easy to spot the fighters. The first thing I notice is the distinct colors of the career packs jackets; blue, red, silver and yellow stands out like lightbulbs in the melancholic land. Then I notice the two fighters.

One is tall and slim, dressed in a dark purple jacket and the other is short and blond, dressed in a similar red/black/grey jacket as mine. They are standing on the edge of a cliff, raised above the others, with nowhere to run. The tall boy is to pale to be Thresh, leaving Timmer from district ten and… **Peeta**.

I can't move. Hidden behind two rocks I watch the man I love fight for his very life; attacking, defending and retreating from his opponent while trying to keep an eye on the wolf's behind him.

"Come on Loverboy, you want to live or die." Clove shouts and throws rock at the two, seemingly hitting Timmer on the shine. Making the teen jump in pain before resuming the fight.

Peeta looks starved. Even from this distant I can see how slim he has gotten and how pale his face is. My heart aches in pain as I study him, the knowledge that I could have helped him but didn't bearing down on me. He must have been on his own for the last four days, facing the wilderness with barely any knowledge of how. If he had been with them from the start he would never have gotten in such a state.

"Come on boys. Just kill the other already, I have food for the winner." Marvel screams loud enough for me to hear. I could see the bag filled with food dangling from his arm. The price was tempting even for me; if I would ever trust a career to give it to me.

From previous games I've learned that the pack never excluded another member when it came to the booty; either it's food or a kill. I have never heard of them giving a bag away to another tribute before meaning that this is an initiation. The winner gains a place in the pack and food, the other death. I would most likely have chosen death.

It almost felt wrong to be cheering for Peeta to win. He would become one of the careers, forever an outcast in the districts if things didn't go as planned. Branded as one that enjoyed death and blood, none of which was accurate. Peeta didn't have an evil bone in his body, he was as much a pacifist that our life ever allowed him to be. He hated violence and cruelty.

They had been at it for a while, their sweating faces and tired movements giving them away.

None of them were keeping to any rules, dirty trick was pulled at every opportunity. Peeta doing his best to prevent real injury, but already showing several small cuts on his body. Timmer was also wounded, but not near enough to leave Peeta the upper hand.

Unfortunately any hope that Peeta was strong enough to win was diminishing for every blow off Timmer's blade. His opponent showing to be ruthless and cunning, his will to live outweighing Peeta's. Something the careers also seem to have noticed going by the increase cheers for the boy.

For every blow and parry Timmer got Peeta that much closer to the edge. Sharp rock and certain death waiting below. There wasn't anything I could do but watch how Peeta tried to retreat from the edge as Timmer slowly advanced on him, not succeeding.

Timmer was good and was skillfully cutting out any room for movement, leaving him with the upper hand. Peeta tries to strike at Timmer right leg, but the boy blocks it. Sparks flow around them as the blades clash. Peeta then tries to aim a punch to the jugular, but Timmer sees it and ducks and counter attack with a punch to the chest.

Peeta scream of pain cuts through me and I give a small shout in return. Thankfully I'm too far away to be heard. It goes on for a while and for every hit Peeta takes I grow weaker. My legs giving out from under me when Timmer stabs him in the leg, blood gushing out from the wound.

The blood brings back memories best left forgotten; of a hospital filled with injured and dying, their flesh burning before my eyes. Of Peeta struggling against an infection, fighting against restraints and nightmares unseen by others. I manage to hold them off long enough to see who will win.

Peeta is down on the ground, holding his legs as he screams in pain. Timmer has retreated a few meter to watch, but at Glimmer demand he charges; ready to give the killer blow. Tears are flowing down my face. I'm unable to stop it, knowing that my husband will die and I'm too far away to help.

I'm ready to see my husband die and whisper softly _\- I love you-_ so he won't travel to the afterlife without it. The blade swing down, almost coloring the air in red. I close my eyes as it falls, unable to see it go through the man I love.

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To be continued….

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I couldn't help but leave a clifhanger. Can't decide if I should let him live or not.


	12. Chapter 21

_This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvelous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with._

_I make no profit..._

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**Chapter 21**

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A scream of pure terror resounds through the air. Followed by the sound of a soft body hitting sharp rocks. It makes me curl into a ball and hide behind the rocks. Too afraid to look and find Peeta crushed and bloodied. I can't even bare the thought.

The sound of shouts and laughter echoes over the cliffs. The career pack is congratulating their new ally as the cannon goes off. I aim a punch on one of the large rocks I'm hiding behind, hurting my knuckles on its hard surface. My anger and sorrow being too much to contain. Hate is coursing through me and I vow there and then to make them suffer.

The more of their laughter I hear the more my rage grows. When I hear Glimmer's comments on how much blood there is I rush up, ready to kill them all. My hands already pulling out the knives. As I step out of my hiding place I start filling my lungs, ready to give out a defiant cry of war, only to stop dead in my step as I take in the group.

They aren't so near that I can see their faces, but I can recognize his silhouette anywhere: PEETA! I fall back and hit the rock. Its hard edges cutting into my back. I don't even notice it. The shock of seeing him alive leaves me numb. He's sitting on the ground and nursing his injuries. How is he alive? I look down and are met with a gruesome sight. Timmer is crushed and pierced by the rocks below the cliff.

Peeta must have been able to throw him over the edge. I have to swallow the laughter of joy and relief that's bubbles up in me. He is alive and well, a new member of the pack. He will be alright from now on. At least for a little while.

After watching them for a little while longer I sneak away, afraid of getting seen by lingering out in the open for long. I don't lose sight of them, only letting the trees hide me as I follow their path over the cliffs; it seems they are heading back home. Most likely to show Peeta the camp and get him acquainted with the others on safe ground.

He isn't as injured as I thought which is good. Peeta might actually be allowed to live. To be curtain I make sure to keep an eye on Clove, she is the one that would stab you in the back. The others has a bit more honor in them. Clove is more like me that way, it's better to ask forgiveness than permission.

With Timmer dead it means there are only ten left. It is all going much faster than I remember. The people back at the capitol is either very disappointed by this year's chosen ones or we are too good. It could explain why I got a gift this morning and why the careers made a new ally; if we also died the games would be over in the matter of days. They usually try to make it to two weeks before speeding up the process. It has only been four days so far.

It scares me how easy I take Timmer's death; the others left me feeling guilty and depressed, but the more I watch Peeta with the careers the more _relief _I'm feeling. A person died so that Peeta would be safe and I don't feel sad about it. In truth I am glad. Glad that he died, because I don't care for him. I care for Peeta. I love Peeta and if others need to die so he can live; so be it.

This realization troubles me. It means that a part of my humanity is being buried underneath greed and cowardness. I recognize these feelings, they were what lead me to push Peeta away the first time. Made me seek comfort in Gale, because he too was filled with the same anger and darkness. It's a cold dark flame I've always had and it's hard to push away; the will to survive being too strong, so strong that you forget to _live_.

I didn't want to be that way. It had taking me so long to be someone worthy of warmth and love. I've never been a good person, but Peeta had made me become a better one. Someone that _I _could like and respect. So as I walk I force myself to relive the sight of Timmer broken body. To remember that a boy was dead and that it could have been avoided.

I stop thinking about the dead when the careers enter the forest ahead. Quickly climbing a tree to hide, making certain that they don't circle around and find me. You can never trust another tribute. They are sneaky killers and if you underestimate them you die. Plain and simple.

_*I wonder where foxgirl is? Is she behind me or on her own?* _that thought made me pause and look around. Almost expecting to see her in the shadows. She's a tricky one for certain. It would be humorous; the pack followed by someone that's being followed. I almost snort at the thought.

When I get a glimpse of the careers crossing a small clearing a few miles ahead I climb down and rest. My body is tired and I would be a fool to overwork it after the ordeal from yesterday. I eat the packed fish and some soft bark, trying to ignore the hunger growing inside me. The mere thought of food makes me remember all the luxury back at the capitol. It makes it hard to chew the bark when you think about chocolate cake and other goodies.

As I rest the idea of stealing from the careers grows more alluring. It would help a great deal to get some extra resources for the days to come. Especially since I'm tired and dirty, with the sun as the only warm sources. It would be risky and foolish, going beyond the mere recon I first had in mind.

The audience would love it.

I spend the next couple of hours walking, resting, hunting and eating. Taking care to have great space between me and the pack. The closer to the cornucopia I get the more their traps I find. Poorly made and easy to destroy without leaving clues. The ones that actually had any trapped animals I cleared with good conscience. Getting one bird and a squirrel. I almost laugh as I see some of the snares laid out. They must believe the animals to be stupid. They are too visible and far away from any trails.

"That is stupid. If you want to catch something you have to be able to understand the animal's nature." I mumble, shaking my head at their folly. "For rabbits you lay it behind a bush, near a trail; anywhere that you find spills or footprints. Not out in the open where the sun can reflect in line. This is utter stupidity."

The traps brings to mind the time Rue and I blew up packs supply pyramid. They had been near to helpless without the resources. It could work this time to, but then it would leave Peeta vulnerable and that is the last thing I want. Besides, this time I would have the opportunity to really study the traps surrounding the pyramid; a great opportunity.

Noah is beyond smart and it would be tricky, but I had the advantage of having seen foxgirl manage it and watched the scene of them burying the mines. I should be able to figure it out somewhat, with a little time and help. After all, they needed food and drinks upon homecoming. I just needed to be near enough to see how they walked around the mines.

The cameras follows me as I track the careers. If I survive the night I will be a clear favorite for being so brave and devious. Not that I was, but it would help my cause if the capitolist would see me as such. It also had the benefit to make me lovesick and girlish without making me look weak.

The truth of the matter was: I needed something and they had it; be it food, weapons, Peeta's safety or more camera time. Not that Haymitch nor Effie would ever let the sponsors see it that way. They would spin the romance and talk of our hardships. I was just helping along by being selfish, needy and curious. If the watchers knew how un-romantic I was they would be shocked. The idea of what their faces would look like helped spur me on.

I resist eating the bird and squirrel raw, too afraid to make a fire and fearful of getting sick. I'd already taken a great chance eating the pike raw yesterday, best not tempt fate. I don't need any more complications.

By late afternoon I drink the last of the water. Now I have to preserve my strength. I might not be able to collect more water for the next two days. It all boils down to how much attention the careers will put to the supply pile and outer perimeters of their camp.

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It is close after nightfall. I have reached the outskirt of the careers camp. I can see where they have their firepit and tents. For a while I circle the area, getting a feel of the land. The area next to the cornucopia has next to no grass and there is very little vegetation to hide in.

Luckily for me they have placed themselves to the west side of the cornucopia, near to the water and close to the forest line. It is a good place to camp at, but it also gives me a chance to get close to them later. When it is much darker, the brushwood will help hide me some as long as they don't look to close. For the moment there is no chance to approach them, even in the dark I can see they are on the alert if not guard. I climb up a tree to study them for a while, wanting to get a feel of their guard-system.

For the next two hour I watch them. The clock nearing midnight. The entire group is seated around the campfire, relaxing and rough-housing; taking the time bonding with their new member and sharing their food with each other. Hopefully Peeta is using his charms. He will need it to survive in their mists.

As I watch I can't find any real plan in their scouting. It seems that one or two just takes a quick look around before returning to the camp. They are scanning the area, but don't go too far into the forest. It makes me move up my timetable and start planning for the next step; get close enough to hear them. The forest will be my protection. I should have a chance at getting close without detection.

Haymitch is likely to cuss at me right now as I climb down and move forward, but it would be safer not to be too cautious. They have proper food and other supplies there for the taking, just a few hundred meter away. If I make a move for it when they have gone to bed I should have a good chance to get a better stash.

To be more movable and limber I hide my backpack inside a bush and cover with its branches, making sure to mark the spot by making a small X a nearby tree. After that is done I rub dirt on my face, cloths and hands. Covering myself as best I can. When satisfied I start to move close. Avoiding a trap or two that would have alerted the pack of my presence.

Arriving at the brushwood I get down on my belly, hiding my small figure amongst the grass. There just enough height to provide me with sufficient shelter. If I'm cautious I should be able to crab-walk close enough to hear them. The tricky part will be knowing when to stop. If I get to close I will be spotted, too far way and I'm risking my life in vain.

When I'm ready I start moving. It is harder than it looks going on your hand and feet, every muscle in my body is working on keeping me mere centimeter of the ground and mobile. The wind in the trees masks any noise I make, including the labored breath I try to mask. After some careful orientation I'm close enough to hear them. Happily laying down on the grass to rest and watch.

They have three torches stuck into the ground for some extra light and warmth. It makes the camp an illuminated place with dark edges; helping me to stay hidden. The worst thing someone can do when in hostile territory is to make a fire in the dark. It tells anyone near where you are and kills your night vision. _*What luck I'm having*_ I think while smirking.

I have to be careful though, they could have goggles that let them see in the dark. If that is the case I am in deep trouble. The idea that anyone of them can whip out a pair of goggles and find me makes my skin crawl, but I stay put and try not to panic. I stick my head up enough to get them in sight. Wanting to know that I've got them all in one place.

Ahead of me Cato and Glimmer is snuggled up, Marvel is sitting next to Clove while Noah leans on a trunk together with Peeta; who is currently under scrutiny. They seem to be playing the childish games _~if-you-dare~_. The realization surprise me, I believed them incapable of being childish; it is incomprehensible.

"Come on Lover boy, don't tell me you're scared." Cato shouts, making the others laugh.

"It's not that, she might stab me if I do it wrong; I'm not that rehearsed with it." Peeta are playing along with them... and having _fun _by the sound of it. We have gone beyond shock at this stage. I must have been stung by a Tracker jacker without realizing it. I subtly look for a swollen mark, surprised when I find none. This is actually happening.

I smile at the relieved tone of Peeta's voice, he sounds rested and calm. Happily warming himself by the fire and working his magic on the people around him. What happens next whips any smile off my face.

Whatever the dare was it has Peeta leaning over and kissing Clove - and it isn't a soft kiss either. She's don't stab him, in fact she looks to be enjoying the kiss. Jealousy hits me hard and bitter anger follows it. If not for my wish to live he would be facing my full wrath right now.

My anger grows even hotter when Peeta lifts up a nutrition bare and eats it, sharing the other half with Clove and _smiling _about it. All of them has some sort of food in their hands and my stomach threatens to grumble in protest. I have to bite into the ground underneath me to stop the onslaught of hunger that comes from the sight.

I feel extremely childish lying there and being bitter of the riches they have. Probably a reaction stemming from the traumas I've lived through the last few days. Being immature is just a way to respond and deal with everything at the moment. However useless it is. The benefit is it will make the capitol believe me lovesick.

With some force I manage to control my feeling and get a hold of myself. Soon I start thinking rationally again and I try to scan the surrounding area. Wanting to know if there is another path I've not seen to the supply pyramid.

The grass underneath and around me is soft and moist. Already the chilly night is turning the hot air of the day into dew. The cold is unwelcomed, but at the same time needed. It will make the careers stay put. Unwilling to leave the warmth of the fire. Hopefully they are tired and will go to bed soon. Giving me the chance to raid their stash.

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I stay at my spot for as long as I dare. Only crawling away when Marvel and Cato start a fake fight to impress the others. Soon after I've retreated to the forest line they break it off and start getting ready for bed. They seem to smart enough to work out a guard system, but foolishly believing they only need one guard. Noah being the first to take point.

For some time I don't try anything, letting the members fall asleep and watching Noah. The teen has had a few trying days going by the black eye and tired appearance. He knows he's survived so far by being useful to the pack; which is why he keeps all of his attention towards the pyramid. If it was destroyed he would become useless and he wouldn't allow it.

It made him a dangerous guard, to attentive to the small things even if he focus more on the meadow itself and not the forest line. I use it shamefully to get to the cornucopia. Going to the other end, farthest away from him and crab walk to its side.

I get up on my feet when I'm sure that Noah can't see me. It shocks me a bit how big the cornucopian really is. I have forgotten how massive its structure really is. The metal is like cold gold to the touch and its many edges and lines gives it its charismatic look. I carefully climb the structure and get acquainted with its design.

For many minutes I just sit up on the top with my feet dangling in front of the opening. The night is dark and full of stars. The entire Valley is seen from this point and it beauty strikes me as much now as it does in daylight. It is a great sorrow that it will be a shunned land in the future. A place where no one wishes to visit. It deserves more from us humans.

When Noah is relieved of his shift it must be around two in the morning. This time it is Cato who takes the watch. The tall teen is more mobile than the boy from three and moves about the clearing. I lay flat on the cornucopia's top for most of his shift. Only daring to climb down and search the surrounded area for left or missed supply when he sits by the campfire. Finding none I start feeling the coldness and the ache in my limbs. The urge for sleep is heavy but I push it aside. I can sleep later.

Afraid of getting arrogant I make sure to keep track on Cato. Staying low and listening for every sound. Slowly the hours tick by. I do what I can to avoid letting the cold paralyzing me. The frustration is grating, but I don't give up hope for the supply pile; even if it seems pointless the more time that goes by.

When it's around four in the morning I see Marvel switching with Cato. By his tired walk he won't be active for much during his shift. I'm proven right when he soon after going a lap settles done by the kindling fire and falls asleep. Soon I hear him snoring, which means that the coast is clear and I can go for the supply pyramid.

I get to it without being spotted, crouching down on the other side of it; letting it mask me from the camp. It proves a good thing because as soon as I'm hidden I can hear movement from the camp. I carefully stick my head around and scan the area.

It's Glimmer. She has wakened from Marvel's snores and are getting out of the tent. She is wrinkling her face as she studies her fellow tribute, but don't get out to wake him. Probably out of fear getting stuck on the shift. She checks her surrounding and go to relieve herself. When she comes back she stops to put a few logs on the almost dead fire before returning to the tent. Believing the camp secure enough to let Marvel sleep.

Her stupidity surprise me into chuckling softly. Stopping when the wind takes my laughter to the camp. Afraid that she might have heard me I get down on my belly and get ready to crawl to safety. When nothing happens for several minutes I carefully get up again.

With such a small window of opportunity I hurry to circle the pyramid, trying to find the patterns in the mines I know lies underneath the deceptive earth. From what I can remember foxgirl (or Finch as is her name) had danced around them, staying of the piles of dirt. Meaning that they are dangerous.

However if I remember Caesar Flickerman right there is more to this trap than just the dirt-piles. It make it all that much harder since I can't see everything as clear as foxgirl had in the daylight. My only clues being the one from the coronation day, when they had replayed the scene on the big screen on the capitol square.

Ceasar had said that the mines had been put into a beautiful labyrinth; worthy of any tribute from district three. I can't remember the details since I had hidden myself in Peeta's neck, but I remember the mention of the mines being placed into patterns. After walking around the pyramid two more times I think I've found the answer.

I take out my knife and started digging into the ground. Making a sketch of the dirt piles surrounding the pyramid, when I believe I've gotten them all I start on the second pattern. At first I thought it was the stones littering around the pyramid, but then I noticed it; the more stump on patches. They made out a pattern that fits amongst certain piles, which leads up to the supplies. After some more sketching I had an overlying design carved into the ground.

Now to find the _safe area _along the path. It should be the area next to where the two patterns meet. It makes sense as it will give me just enough room to move. I collect some small petals to throw at the believed safe zones. Not willing to risk my life just yet.

When I'm not blown sky high at my third attempt I judge it a correct guess. One wrong step would be dire since I can't take the sketch with me, but after studying it for some time I believe myself to have memorized it.

I only have a small window left to do this. It is around five o'clock in the morning and soon the campo will most likely wake up. Since there isn't any immediate danger I get ready to start. Already scanning the pyramid in front of my for the things I want.

Most of it is inside boxes, safely tucked away from thieves. But since they must get to it easily I presume they have placed the medicine and food in the more ease access ones. Pressed for times I collect myself, ready to take the plunge. The pressure to get it done growing for every minute. Soon the morning sun would be touching the valleys edges.

O move to the starting point and takes my first tentative step. Carefully I place my right foot on the ground between a dirt pile and a stomped patch. When I'm not blown up by I start breathing again. Continuing slowly, step by step, I get closer and closer to stash. My greed growing for every inch I gain. Soon I'm more than halfway over and the smell of the food reach me.

The pang of hunger is enough to make me sway, but I manage to stay on my feet. I'm rewarded by reaching the goal alive and after jumping the last meter I am safe. The pyramid is open for me to raid and no one even knows I am here.

I take my time and are rewarded with; a better backpack, snare-lines, a thicker blanket, a rope, fishing lines, water bottles, crackers, candy, dried meat and medical supplies and much more. I have to stop myself from taking more than I can carry. Knowing that I must remain agile and movable. Too much would slow me down and leave me vulnerable.

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I have made it back over the minefield and have just landed when I hear it. The sound of an arrow being launched. Not even taking the time reacting I throw myself backwards, uncaring of the mines. In an act of miracles I land just right. I can practically see the top of one mine next to my face. Looking beyond it I see Glimmer standing in front to the camp fire and doing a nock*.

Her face is determined and devoid of emotions. She is aiming to kill me. It's when I get up and move away from the minefield that she shouts out a warning to the other and launches another arrow at me. I barely avoid it. The moment I'm clear I start running. Not even stopping to see who's chasing me.

From the shouts and noises coming from behind the entire camp is on my tail. Meaning that I will have a hard time escaping. They have the advantage over me; rested and angry they will have the energy for a long chance. I on the other hand most find a good spot to hide, soon, being up all night and tired from the last few days isn't a good incentive for a chase.

To maintain my lead I don't make the mistake to look behind, I instead focus on scanning the landscape for a good hiding place. I found none in the first half hour and it is when I'm short on breath and little to no strength left that I find my best chance. By then they have gotten a lot closer to me and I could practically hear Cato breathing down my neck.

My best chance is an ancient tree that has been growing over a buried cliff, its big roots are spread over the area and has many hiding holes. I rip of the backpack and hide it in one of the smaller ones, covering it with moss and whatever is on the ground. Striving to make it look natural.

After that is done I try to find a hole big enough for myself. At first there isn't one visibly, but I don't give up. I can't run anymore and if I don't find anything on the ground soon I will climb. Even if it would make me visible for the careers. Just as I'm about to give up I find a small hole at the threes west side.

It is oval and narrow, but its inside should be able to hide me efficiently. It had the bonus of having removable greenery growing over it, giving me great cover. I have to strip of my jacket and shirt to manage to squirm inside. My skin being scrape severely. I have just enough time to get dressed and remove any trace left outside when I hear approaching footsteps.

Knowing that I might have gotten spotted I prepare myself to die. Knowing that it is too late to run or climb I wait for my fate.

The person are moving closer and closer to my tree and for every step my pulse goes up. I have to stuff my and into my mouth to prevent my heavy breath from being heard. Soon the sound of a sword being stabbed into wood breaks the treacherous silence. Someone is looking for a hidden person amongst the many natural holes the tree offers.

Knowing that at any minute a sharp edge of a blade can pierce me I try to crawl even further back, praying the greenery hides me proficiently.

"Cato." A female voice says lowly just above me and I go deadly pale. _*They have found me.*_ Not even knowing of Clove's closeness was daunting.

"Yeah." I hear next to me. Cato sitting down and stabbing his sword at any hole he sees. From a crack to my right I can see his legs. Sounding angry and frustrated. I move a bit, very carefully, so that I can watch them both. Not willing to have them this close without seeing their faces.

"I don't like this. First the lover boy and now the girl. They are too close, why are we keeping him alive again?" Clove ask irritated as she stabs at some bushes and glare up the tree; looking for clues. Letting Cato do the checking around and underneath the tree.

"Because, he's our best chance of finding her. She is weak, but smart." Cato answers in a short tone, not liking being question. "She manage to get to our supply, but we are close on her tail thanks to him. Even if he's right and she is slower than usual we could have lost her long ago." He continues when he sees that Clove is about to argue. "Her feelings for him is also our best chance to kill her. You save the look she gave him. She might become desperate enough to approach him."

"Then perhaps you should keep the food more secure so she becomes that desperate! She got several things before we discovered her." Clove snap back at him, making sure to have a knife in each hand as she stared at her fellow tribute.

Cato takes a threatening step forward, ready to kill her or put her in her place. Either way it might get them to leave. Their arguing might lead them to discover me and I'm already at my wit's end.

"Nothing of any real value; from what Noah said she only got a bag, bread and some water." He says with a clenched jaw. "It will be gone in days if she's as hungry as Lover boy was. Now stop talking and look, before it is you that becomes useless."

They stare at each other for a few seconds, arriving at the same conclusion. For the moment both are too strong. It won't be an easy kill either way and whoever survived might be finished off by the others.

Then more approaching steps are heard and both hide their drawn weapons, not willing to show the disagreement between them. It is Marvel; he has already gotten bored by the search and is wondering if anyone has found anything just yet.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK?" Cato barks at him as Glimmer and Peeta arrive.

"I found some footprints a way back that at least tells us we are close. She is going in the direction of the river. Most likely to cover her tracks better." Peeta tells the agitated teen, trying to stave off a tantrum.

"How the freck can this girl be so good at hiding from us, she only got a seven and doesn't seem to smart." Glimmer complained to the group. Touching her bow as she scans the landscape.

"We'll make sure to ask her before finishing her off." Cato grumble in clear irritation.

"Why do we even care?" Marvel asks. "It's not like she's that important. I'm more interested in the big guy from 11, or why not the fine red hair girl... Finch? Right?"

"Ewww. Don't you have better taste?" Glimmer says in disgust, taking several steps away from her fellow tribute. Making the other laugh and start teasing the boy, making him go red.

I have control myself from not throwing a knife straight at the boy for his words. His eagerness when talking about killing disgusting me.

"At least I like someone smart." Marvel eventually shouts when he's had enough. To stave off an argument between the two Clove steps in and looks to Cato.

"So what do you want us to do Cato?" She asks.

"Look for any trail. I want that girl." At those words the entire groups spreads out and start looking. It is Peeta that *finds* some new trails and heads them of in the direction of the river. Giving me a good indication on where not to go.

I stay in my hole for a while longer, allowing the time to go. I get comfortable enough so I can rest without breaking my back. It's a close fit, but manageable. After some while I actually fall asleep for an hour or two. - Only waking up when a branch cracks up ahead.

After making sure that no one has spotted me I try to find the origin of the sound. Seeing nothing but trees, grass, rocks and bushes I start believing it to be a bird or something. That is until I see a mop of black hair in the tree up ahead. I can just see it from my point and my heart almost stops as it is confirmed seconds later to be Rue.

The not knowing if it would be a good thing to approach her weights on my mind. I got her killed last time and don't want to be responsible for her once again. However I still get into a better position to follow her, almost crawling out the hole as I try not to lose her. She hasn't spotted me which is good. It will give me some time to think.

She is climbing from tree to tree, seemingly looking for dangers or food. At first I can hardly track her, she's too quick and nimble. It helps a bit when I spot the most likely target for her exploits. Further away I can just see the top of a large bush and by her focused movements it must have berries.

Rue slowly climbs down the large tree closes to it, stopping at every sound she hears. When she touch ground she take an extra second to make sure that the coast is clear before cautiously moving away from the tree.

I very carefully squirm out of the hole and worm myself closer to her. The more space I cover the more of the bush I see and it fills me with dread. It is a large and dark green bush, filled with blood red berries. The sight would tempt anyone hungry enough to try it, but I know it to be highly poisonous.

The same bush grows along the fences back home. If it get into your bloodstream the kindest thing to do is kill you. Death takes days to come and during such time you will suffer nothing but pain. No medicine helps.

I go cold inside as I see her take a step closer to the dark green bush and reaching out with one hand to pick a berry, her skinny hand trembling at the thought of food. She looks exhausted and tired, much like myself.

"No Rue, not them." I call out, getting up and standing a bit away. In clear sight.

Rue stops what she's doing and looks at me. Her hand inches from the berries and her eyes filled with terror.

"They are poisonous" I tell her calmly as I slowly walk closer, looking around just in case anyone else heard me. With the pack so near it is foolish to make sounds, but as Rue slowly lower her hand it's well worth the risk.

It hurts when she takes a cautious step back, looking for an escape route. Knowing she is too far away from a tree I try to come across benign. Hoping that she will stay long enough for us to talk. I slowly lower myself down onto my knees to show I want her no harm.

The exposed position make my skin crawl and I can almost hear Haymitch screaming at me, but Rue stops retreating. I try to give her a smile, but it comes out stiff and crooked. It feels foreign on my face so I stop.

"They are called _roxes_, they grow back home and has killed many children who tried them. They kill _very _slowly Rue." I stress to her. "It takes time, but it is deadly for humans to eat. It will slowly shut us down from the inside out."

I can see that she wants to believe me, but the fact I was just under her nose and she didn't know makes her cautious. She doesn't want to die and I can relate with that.

"I have a sister; she's about your age." I say. "You remind me of her: A good soul, trying her best to help the people around her - I give you my word that I will not be the one to kill you."

Rue slowly relax as I speak, feeling my sincerity. I know that I should leave, but now when I've started talking to her I can't bring myself to abandon her again.

If we join up it will mean a game change. I will not allow her to die. Hence why I tried to ignore my responsibility to her from the start. Not willing to give up on Peeta's and my chance to live.

"How do I know you won't kill me?" She asks in a strained voice, she must be dehydrated as well as half-starved since she can hardly talk. I need to get her somewhere safe so I can hunt and collect water.

"Because you are not my _enemy_ and I give you my word." I put as much conviction I can into my words. The need to move growing more urgent. I can practically feel the pack sniffing behind me.

Rue stares at me for a long time, silent and judging. I can barely stand the pressure, but just as I break she gives a silent nod and walks over to me.

"What the plan?" She asks trusting.

"Get to a safe location and get food into you." I answer relieved and get up. We stay within eyesight, but maintain some space to start. Not willing to trust each other implicit just yet.

"For now I settle for some water." She jokes.

"That I can do." I say and smile. Hurrying over to my backpack, finding it intact I take out a water bottle that I give to her. She drinks half of its contests in one go.

"Better?"

"Better."

I smile the first smile of the day when I see her happy face. A huge weight on my shoulder falling away as I see her take her place by my side. We start walking in a quick pace away from the river. Keeping to the east*.

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*(Nock (practice) - The act of setting an arrow in a bow).

*(In earlier chapter I've discovered that I, by mistake, wrote that the mountains went to the south- this is wrong: The mountains are to the north, with the river to the west, forest to the east and camp to the south. I apologies for my blunder."


	13. Chapter 22

_This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvelous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with._

_I make no profit..._

**Chapter 22**

Today is the eighth day in the arena, but it feels more like eight years. I'm currently on my way back to camp. Having spent the early morning hunting crabs and other sea life by the great river. Only a thirty minute walk to the west. I let Rue sleep; she needs the rest more than I. The last couple of days have taken a lot out of the both of us.

Rue and I had managed to get away from the careers on that fateful fifth day. We had walked towards the east, as far away from the pack as we could. Our bond had become permanent on day six, after I'd saved her from falling trees with razor-sharp branches and stinging leaves. Another aspect new to me.

I look down on my hand and my skin still has some redness to it, but is healing just fine. I give a soft chuckle as I remember Rue's face as I pulled her down into a creek for safety. She had looked like a drown rat with polka dots. I had been in a similar state, making her laugh in turn. The medicine I'd stolen helped with the injuries acquired. Rue even collected stinger-leaves to sooth the remaining ache.

After surviving we stayed away from that side of the Valley. Instead we retreated to a small stream amidst the forest, to the northwest; the trees and greenery growing thick and hiding our small forms easily. Making us feel safer. We had made a camp for ourselves amongst the older oak trees, in a secluded part.

As the days passed I managed to get more weight on the both of us, thanks to more advanced traps and fishing: The cause being the new supplies.

I also took my time to teach Rue about plants, hunting and survival. Preparing her in case we ever got separated or I died. It wasn't uncommon for tributes to become allies, but it was unheard of sharing one's tricks.

When Rue had asked me why, my answer had been that I needed it. It was calming and made me focus. Not a lie, but it also had the benefit of getting the information out there, to give people all over Panem the chance to gather more food for the coming winter. It felt good knowing that I gave a mother or a father the tools needed to make their child survive the coming cold.

By joining up with Rue the urge to wander and gather information also disappeared, being replaced by the need to take care of my new ally. My protective nature awakened; a great comfort which helped sooth the darkness inside me. It was like falling into old patterns, but instead for Prim it was for her: It was a mutual benefactor, she kept me centered and I kept her alive.

I'm just arrived at our camp when I hear Rue calling out for me.

"Katniss, where are you?" She sounds worried. I let my musing go and answer.

"Here. I was down by the river to gather some food: I found crabs."

I see her poke her head out of the tree we sleep in. The oak is huge, spanning over five meter in diameter; its crown making a perfect circle to seek shelter in. I hold up my catch to her, appreciating the smile and laughter that follows as she sees it. It had rained during the night and it had been a good weather for hunting. My catch being ten crabs in the net and plenty of clams to.

I was very relaxed as I started preparing for breakfast. Rue soon joined me, offering to collect firewood for the fire.

"That would be grate. But take care; it has been too silent these last few days. The careers might be close." I tell her.

"I will." She says before disappearing in the greenery.

I make sure to get her general direction before focusing on the task at hand. The plan was to make a crab-stew, using the many spices and berries that we had collected. A recipe thought to me by Annie, it had been Finnick's favorite.

It turns out that Rue knows even more about berries and fruits than I'd thought. She knows which ones that should be eaten raw, cooked or dried. That in combination with my knowledge of what's edible in a forest has given us a good food stock. We have root vegetables, tree-fruits, berries and mushrooms a plenty. Making it a certainty we won't starve to death. Something we are grateful for.

"Katniss I found this on a tree, is it an eatable one?" Rue says in greeting as she returns. Holding up a big mushroom that's brown on the top and pinkish underneath*. (It's a _**made up**_ mushroom, **don't **eat any if you by any chance find it.)

"Rue! it is a Greumpt." I tell her in a happy tone and snatch it from her fingers. I breathe in its wonderful scent and give a small laugh. "It is very similar to rice when cooked: it will fall into tiny pieces and give a filling sensation as you eat it."

"So it's a good catch?"

"It's a great one. It will last for days." I proudly tell her as I start cutting it up. Some I wrap in bark and fern, preserving it for later. The rest I throw in the bowl hanging over the now lit fire.

As we wait for the food we talk and play some smaller games. Just enjoying the time we got. It's when we sit down to eat that our conversation turns into something more serious. Rue starts telling me about her home life and of district eleven.

"We don't get this much meat." She starts. "Back home this would be seen as a luxury for an entire family and then some."

"It's the same back at twelve. Only, my father knew how to get by. We might be poor, but we at least know the tools to survival."

"It not like _that _at eleven." Rue explains. "It isn't our main cause; it's that we don't have access to much meat. Our main source of food is rice and corn. Once a month we may buy a chicken cheaply."

"We can buy more food in exchange for another name in the bowl." I tell her when she goes silent. "My friend has over forty, I had less. Prim only the one. It is for essentials, such as flour or rice; not meat."

"We can't do that." She tells me, startled by the revelation. "We can work longer hours or get our children to work under one pay, but never sell our names. We would all do that if we could." At this I nod.

"In twelve we have a high mortality rate. Not many children survive to see the age of eleven." I explain. "It was one of our commanders that had the idea I think, way back. They needed more worker, we needed food so a compromise was made: As long as you could be a contestant in the Games you had the right to sell your name once a month."

"Ooh. If we could do that we would most likely empty the food storage back home." Rue says in a longing voice. "We might even have dared to ask if they had said as much."

"I think it is so we won't know how the other districts are governed." I muse out loud. "It would give room for trouble."

"That makes sense." Rue whispers, looking around nervously. It is dangerous to even hint at dissatisfaction on the Capitol. She goes beyond brave with her next question,"How do they run twelve?"

A feeling of pride grows inside me at her defiant tone.

"The peacekeepers are strict, efficient and hard; as soldiers should be. They don't allow room for negotiation, but they are no fools. They heed warnings, mostly because when they haven't death has been a result."

"You kill them." She exclaims horrified, moving away on instinct. I give a raw snort in reply.

"No. Never that." I say to calm her. "I meant the mines. We know the ground and what it can do, where there is safety and where there isn't. It is when Peacekeepers don't listen chaos ensues."

"You can argue with them?" She asks surprised. Both of us talking more softly now, well aware of the danger we are putting ourselves in by talking about this.

"We simply tell them what might happen, they decide if it's a good counsel. One of our Commanders refused to listen to us, even when we tried to tell him about the dangers that exist in twelve… He only lasted a month." I explain, remembering the anger in my father's eyes as he told me the story.

"What happened?" Rue asks breathless, staring at me with big eyes.

"He demanded that we opened a closed mine, stating that it had more to harvest. We told him differently: That anyone going near the area would be risking their life for nothing." I tell her while eating some more soup. "He punished the ones that spoke before ordering his men to force workers to the area. Under supervision they were ordered to start mining. After two hours everything gave out. Six peacekeepers and over a hundred of our minors were swallowed, never to be seen again."

Rue didn't say anything for a while, to horrified by the story. In the end she gets up and signals the conversation over. Since she wants to go down to the river we pack our things and head out. Rue helps me cover up the fire pit before we go so that our camp will by unnoticed.

It is midday before she starts talking again. We're sitting by the water and are cooling our aching feet. Her light voice surprising me as she barely said a word since breakfast.

"Are you allowed to collect all the coal that you want?"

I shake my head in negative.

"It is merchandise and belongs to the Capitol. We can buy some cheaply." I tell her. "Usually we just gather spill along the railway or gather firewood growing along the fence. It's free."

"We can get some of the spill when we do the harvest, but we have to be careful not to take too much. We get punished if we appear greedy or try to take any of the good stock." She tells me in turn and I just nod.

It worries me that we have been talking about this. The whole conversation makes me remember what we talked about in the previous timeline; of the dangers that followed and the deaths. The mere thought makes me shudder.

I get up and unpack some apples. We found them yesterday and they are still fresh. I give one to Rue and bite into the other. It taste wonderful and I close my eyes in enjoyment. It also helps to prevent the subject from continuing.

It is as I throw the apple into the river that I first start noticing it. Something was in the air. A smell I've never sensed before. It made me pause and look around. What was it? It had a touch of cinnamon in it, as well as burned fruit. The taste of it was bitter. Goosebumps appeared on my arms and my body twists nervously.

Something dangerous was coming our way.

"Rue." I whisper as I crouch down. She follows on instinct.

"What?" She whispers, scared for the sudden change in behavior.

"Get your shoes back on."

She hurries over to the backpack and throws me my shoes. We put them on and get everything packed and secured. We make sure to keep a watchful eye on our surroundings, trying to find the danger.

"Do you smell that?"

She only gives me a nod in confirmation. Smart girl, knows not to make unnecessary sounds when the situation is unclear. We stay where we are. It's too dangerous to move when we don't know where safety lies.

It is when I close my eyes and start listening more closely that I figure it out. It a FIRE. An artificial one since there's no smoke, only the sound of the trees cracking under the heat. That isn't something you forget.

For a second I stand there, by the river in complete shock. Why have they started a fire? We are so close to water. I direct my eyes to the river as I grab Rues right shoulder. I can feel her shaking in fear s I try to figure out what the Game Makers have done.

The water has a pinkish hoe to it, like soap floating on the surface. My first thought is that it is poison. But the strawberry smell makes me think fuel. If we seek shelter in the water the risk of it being ignited is likely high. With Game Makers you can never take anything at face value. We need to move: NOW!

"Rue we need to get out of the forest." I say in a clip voice, adrenalin starting to flow in my veins.

"The river?" She asks as she starts seeing the flames amongst the trees. I shake my head.

"To dangerous. We need to go for something more open, bare… _the cliffs_." I exclaim.

"That too far." Rue protests.

"It is a good bit to run, but we could make it." I counter. Knowing full well that it is over six kilometers, but it's our only chance.

"The fire is spreading too fast." She cries in anguish. Fear gripping her. I don't answer as the fire has just started kissing the brushwood.

"Rue run." I shout and take off down the riverbend. Looking to gain some distance between us and the fire, using the safety of the bare ground. Rue follows on instinct. We run for a long time over rocks, gravel, dirt and sand. Taking care not to stumble or hurt ourselves. The fire is hunting us, making it a certainty that the Game Makers are calling the shots.

It is as I suspected, the river is booby-trapped. As soon as the fire touches it, it ignites. Now we have fire behind us and to the side. The heat is burning along our bodies, threatening to devour us.

"There." Rue shouts and points at a moss covered log.

A landmark. Something we had passed before on our way to the great oak on our hunts. We know what direction to go in now. Neither of us hesitates. After jumping over the log we start running into the forest. Hardly a tree around us, only greenery, fern and grass for a long stretch to come. Hopefully the area is still moist from the morning dew or we will be swallowed in an ocean of fire.

The water crawling up my pants tells me that there some humidity left. Making me gain hope, but we don't lose momentum. We can see the fire as we run in a diagonal line across the space, heading towards the tree line up ahead. The fire has been slowed down with the lack of trees, but quickly adapts after letting its heat dry the ground. We still have a long way until we reach safety, but struggle on. Grateful for every inch gained.

After running for a over a hour we start losing speed, the fire coming closer as our bodies grows tired. I lose my balance at one point and fall, hitting the ground hard. I hurt my right knee badly, sharp pain shooting up the side. Rue only stops long enough to pull me up before taking the lead. I follow her as best I can, biting though the pain. Amazed by how strong Rue is and trying to mimic it.

"Katniss! How far?" Rue screams over the roar of the fire, terrified at the approaching flames.

"I don't know." I scream back, having lost all sense of familiarity. I believe we are on the right track, but the adrenalin is making it hard to think. When the area starts being filled with trees again my fear grows even more. We're getting cornered.

As soon as the fire has crossed the greenery and hit the trees it explodes outward, growing in all directions. When the fire is starting to get ahead of us, boxing us in, the need to find the right path grows to grate. I force myself to stop, grabbing hold of Rue's jacket.

"Rue, you need to climb. Find us a way out of here." I shout at her, pushing her up the closest tree. Watching the flames closely, hoping that we have time to orient ourselves before they reach us. Rue climbs as fast as she dares. The moment she can get an overview she starts scanning for the cliffs.

"That way." She calls down to me. Most likely pointing toward the southeast.

We had run in the right direction at least. Relief floods me and I lean on the maple to rest for a moment. My relief is short. Rue starts coughing, meaning that another danger has joined the fire; Lung-burns, oxygen depravity. Her lungs are beginning to strain and so are mine. The heat and the run are slowly killing us from the inside. No wonder we are so slow.

"We are getting closer, but the fire is cutting of our path." Rue tells me between the coughs. I curse. This means that the Game Makers want another death today and by their approach it seems we drew the number.

"Get down here." I tell her. "We need to move." The moment her feet touch the ground we are off, taking the route she deemed safest.

"We can try to circle when we are closer. Get onto the rocks from the south." I scream as we avoid a lit tree. The heath is growing unbearable and I start to cough just as bad as Rue. It feels like my lungs are on fire and every breath is a battle.

My words have Rue lose balance and I have to grab her jacket to keep her standing. She is terrified and close to panic. All around us there is fire and hardly a path as far as we can see.

"We are going to die Katniss." She cries out.

"No, we are not." I bark at her. "We will survive. It is just fire."

She stares at me in disbelief. I can understand her. This isn't a normal fire. It behaves like it has a mind; seeking us out, tracking us and cutting of our path. But I keep telling myself that so I won't lose hope. Convincing myself there is a way so I can keep on running. I have lived through too much to let this be my death day. WE will make it.

Another aspect of the fire is starting to show. It must be from some sort of gas. It's like a hallucinating mirage. It's taking away the edge of the fire, making it seem like a painting and not a threat. A rainbow colored ocean. The one thing preventing me falling under it's spell is my hate for fire. In any color fire is still a reminder of Prim's death. No gas can make me forget her dying scream.

Rue is also affected, slowing down to watch the flames. I have to start dragging her by the arm to keep us moving. We are both stretch to the limit and if we don't get to the cliffs soon we will be killed. I can't tell for how long we've run. With a fire chasing you it is hard to guess the time or speed, panic and not yet dead being enough at the moment.

The gas has soon taken over Rue senses; she constantly wants to stop to play with the 'pretty colors'. In the end it's because of that we find the cliffs. The rocks and boulders showing over and between the flames, making her complaint over their ugliness.

I was too busy avoiding direct contact with the fire and had lost all semblance of direction, _again_. Rue's finding saves us. It makes it possible for me to orient around the fire and towards safety. We only received minor burns as we start breaking away from the forest. The flames making sure that we pay a price for escaping. My hair gets singed, my cheek burned and my thigh scorched.

I start crying when good clean air reaches my lungs. Cold wind flowing over my heated body. It was liberating. Still, I don't stop until we are well away from the tree line and have shelter behind a rockslide, several hundred feet from the forest. Rue is exhausted, but alive next to me. Both of us stare towards the trees. Afraid that the Game Makers will make the fire continue.

For a good while the fire looks to be searching for a way in, devouring any moss or fern it can reach. There isn't enough for it to get into the area and we see it slowly retreating. The joy we feel liberate us, Rue is shouting in joy and I tremble as I fall to the ground.

I still pay some attention to scenery, trying to find the next threat. The Game Makers might be satisfied, or not. I don't alert Rue to this fact, she has suffered enough and neither of us are capable for another run. Her elaborated breath and heaving chest being a clear sign of how strained our bodies both. It was trying to get more oxygen into our system than we could breath.

The moment I can think again I start taking off my jacket, shoes and pants. Letting the air cool down my body. It is almost dark read for the warmth. Feeling burned to the touch. Rue get the pack open and takes out two bottles of water. We drink them down greedily. The water helps against the fire within. My lungs still ache, but no longer do they feel like they are dying. I can breathe more calmly after a while.

Rue exclaiming over similar symptoms as mine and we sacrifice three more water bottles to rehydrate ourselves and bath our skin. It helps a lot. Later, after some rest, Rue takes care of my wounds. Placing some of the gathered herbs and leafs on them. Thankfully the bag didn't get lost in the run, giving us plenty of remedies against the burns and swelling of throats.

When Rue's done I go over her back, head, legs and arms in return. Searching for injuries or burns. Overall she has managed to avoid any serious damage, only a nasty burn on her ankle that is easily taken care of by some burn-cream.

After our meager nursing we unpack our food store. Taking out the fried snake-meat from two days before, fresh mushrooms and apples. It's enough to still our hunger, but we hardly taste a thing. Our tongues are numb.

We stay at the same spot for the rest of the day. Slumbering and gathering new energy. At one point I have to help Rue stretch her legs, both cramping for the earlier effort. She's too young to be put through such hardship and I worry for her. She laughs away my worries and snuggle close, curling up in a ball against my left side. Seeking comfort and companionship. I willingly give it to her.

When the night comes we relocate to a more protected spot. Finding a V shaped rock formation that will protect us from the elements and hide us from sight. The downside being that we can't see if anyone is coming towards us from the east. Ignoring this fault we crawl into a stolen bedroll and try to fall asleep. The stars shining over our heads. No faces of fallen tributes lulling us to sleep.

…

The next day we cautiously make our way through the forest, towards the river. A dangerous move, but the thought of freshwater and the chance to get cleaned is too tempting.

All around us the forest is regrown. Leaving no trace of the previous day's hardship. Anger burns inside me as I look at the perfect trees, nothing looking as it had previously. The wilderness is gone, replaced by perfection. Not a tree out of place, to tall or too short. We ignore it the best we can since the need to get clean, drink fresh water and set up traps is our top priority.

Reaching the river we step out onto a sandbank, the soft brown sand going into the water in a slope. Giving us a perfect beach with calm spot of water in the otherwise wild river. The sun is making the water glitter and we see plenty of fish battling against the current further out. The peace brings light to our tired eyes. We get undressed and go into the water. Happily playing and splashing whilst getting clean. Enjoying its cooling effect on our skin.

The night had been a hard one, the wind had been ferocious and the rocks unforgiving. Our already sensitive skin had been smarting by morning and Rue had even been crying at one point. I was happy to see her finally relaxing, having felt like a monster for forcing her to get dressed this morning and making the hike. To make her day even better I give her the last of the chocolate when we sit down to eat, something I had saved for a special moment. It was melted and deformed, but she still gave a great cry of joy upon receiving it.

Seeing her happy and alive bring meaning to my life and for several hour I refuse to leave the *beach*. Letting Rue be the child that she is. Only making sure that we have our weapons close at hand. It's Rue that calls it to an end. Wanting to go on berry-hunt and set new traps.

"A good idea. I can show you something new today." I tell her as we get dressed.

"What is that?"

"Have you ever made rope or lines from bark or grass?" I tell her with a smirk.

"Nooo. You can do that?"

"I can do that."

At this Rue hurries. She is a person that loves learning new things. Like a sponge she suck up all the knowledge that she can and it is a pleasure to teach her. I haven't needed to make new rope since the theft, but the fire devoured almost all my trap material and I only have line for one trap left. I need to get more.

We head up the stream, going into the forest but following the river. I take us north. Tracking back towards our old camp, hoping that the Game Makers have regrown the grass and greenery from the open stretch we crossed yesterday. It would be a good place to collect material.

Rue walks beside me, crawling up different trees to scout ahead. She can't see another tribute or big animals so we walk on without too much worry. On one of her climbs Rue happily tells me that the greenery is still there. A good thing since it will be a great place to find berries and rope material. We only need to be careful before we eat, I wouldn't be surprised if the Game Makers has tampered with the berries.

When we reach the area we quickly head towards the tall grass growing in an open patch, at the very center. I look around, taking in the difference from before. Where the old couldn't have been called a meadow per say this one reminded strongly of one. It was more open, barer and perfect.

It's the words that keeps popping up. PERFECT. Everything had a touch of placement. It wasn't naturally grown. The grass weren't in different shapes or colors. The fern had a touch of pink to it. The trees bark had no damages or natural cracks to it. The sight sickens me. It brings the Capitol closer. Destroying the tranquility and peace I've gained from forest.

I don't speak these concerns. It would bring too much trouble. But the anger is shimmering underneath the surface. The disgust of their meddling making me grind my teeth. They start a fire, but won't allow the ground to heal itself. They take it upon themselves to fix everything… to their standard.

"Katniss? Are you going to show me?" Rue asks as she walks up to me, holding long grass in her arms.

I look at her and give a nod. Walking to the very center I sit down, Rue sitting opposite of me. The sun warms my arms, head and shoulder. The wind rustling the greenery and the birds are singing in the trees. I push the anger aside and focus on her. I take some of her grass and place it between us. Dividing it into four piles. Two for her and two for me.

"Alright this is how you do."

I start falling into teaching mode. I can hear the Peeta of my past laughing at me. He always found it amusing when I gave lectures. Saying that I sounded like a machine. Every word being clipped and to the point. Reminding him of my attempt at speeches during our tour. The memory almost makes me want to turn around and tell him to shut up.

I don't, because there is no Peeta there and probably never will be.

"What do I do when the first bit of grass starts to end?" Rue asks as she starts doing the knot. Tying the two ends together as I told her to, before starting to twirl each end of grass before twining them around one and another.

"You add some more grass like this." I say and place a new fist of grass with the old and twist them, "Before you twine them together like this." I curl the grass over each other, using the same method as I do when curling Prim's hair before twinning the two ends. " It will be an overlapping patterns. You're the one who decides how long the rope is to be, and how thick."

Rue takes the new task and applies everything to it. Within the hour she has already managed to twinned a long rope. Sturdy too. So I go on to teach her how to make a net from grass rope.

"You take your long rope. Strap it up with the help of threes or branches stuck into the ground."

We use branches since we don't want to leave the sunny patch we have discovered.

"Then you make a new rope line from the scratch. Tie to end together, make them embrace the rope you've got."

I show her how.

"Then you twine as you did before. You make double the length as you want the fishnet. For every line you add you will use grass, or bark, to tie them together in a fish-net-pattern."

This takes a bit longer for Rue to adapt to. She struggles with the connecting dots. All in all we soon have a start of a good net bas and I express my pride in her skills. She goes red from the praise and hides her face for a while as we work.

It takes us awhile to make the net, even with two working on it. Stopping to collect some berries for a snack. We study them closely, trying to find anything odd about them. We study their size, color, form and smell. How the bush looks and how far down the roots go. In the end we don't find anything suspicious about the berries growing here, but I take one of each first and make Rue wait for over an hour before she can eat them. Giving her some preserved fish instead.

When the net is done Rue wants to go down to the lake to try them out. Saying that we can make rope or line for traps during the evening or the next day, but that she wants to try catching fish now. I would rather catch a rabbit, it being my favorite meat, but for her I relent.

After finding a good fishing spot I show her how to throw the net. I'm not good at it, but the fishers from district four had shown me how. It was a special twist of the wrist that was needed. neither me or Rue had it, but we managed to get the net to spread out before reaching the water. It was most likely to small, wide and heavy to catch anything, but I let Rue continue. Not willing to tell her how small her chance was. It was better to let her exhaust herself and learn on her own.

I helped her until she expressed a wish to try on her own. Retreating to the brushwood to watch.

"I will go an look for a place to set up camp. We still have many hours left of the day, but it don't look as if we are leaving." I tell her after a while. I only get a nod in reply. Rue standing on gravel, quiet as a mouse and looking out on the water. Trying to spot a fish. I shake my head at her. I take the backpack, only leaving a line in the ground towards my heading and a half-dried summer apple.

I don't walk far, finding a good blackjack oak with a _perfect _crown to camp underneath just ten minutes in. The area around has many trees and humps, giving good cover. Rue will still be able to spot me though and I can see a small part of the river from here. A good vantage point. The trees would protect us during the night and the crown would hide a small fire, especially if I made it in a pit.

At ease I set to work.


	14. Chapter 23

_This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvelous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with._

_I make no profit..._

**Chapter 23**

A sudden scream breaks the silence.

A cry of fear and pain.

It's Rue's.

My head snaps up and I instinctively start scanning the area. Trying to find the threat before I remember that she isn't here. I left her down by the lake. I don't stop to think. Leaving the barely started fire and supply behind as I rush through the terrain, uncaring for the branches that scrape my face. I follow the scream the best I can, trying to find the path I walked only minutes before.

_*I left her safe, what's happened?*_

I come to a stop just before the brushwood. The sight of glimmering blond hair alerting me to another's presence. I take cover behind a cluster of forsythia bushes, it barely covers me as it is only knee high. I presume I've gone unnoticed me when I'm not killed.

My heart is racing from the run and my breath is too loud. I'm surprised that the person before me can't hear it, to me it sound like a drum, echoing over the area. Silently I study the person before me; from the height and feminine built it must be Glimmer. I can't see anyone else, but where one careers is there are others. Which means that Rue has gotten herself in a world of trouble, but is alive. I haven't heard the cannon yet so it gives me hope.

I look for the other tributes, unwilling to risk capture. Finding none in my direct line of sight I crawl into the bush, trying not to sneeze at the pollen falling down my face. From here I can see most of the river and the bank and still be concealed from all directions.

Burying down into the ground and covering my face and hands in dirt I feel more secured and take my time studying Glimmer. For a long time all I can see is her back, but as she turns Clove is revealed crouching on the bank. At first I feel more exposed by another careers presence, but since neither seems to be on the lookout I slowly relax.

Both look worn on the edges, but still in good health. Leading me to believe that haven't been chasing us for days. They just got lucky on their hunting trip. The girls most likely staying behind to rest, while the boys chase the prey. Both looks bored, but doesn't seem to be in a hurry to find their teammates. They are talking, but it is hard to hear them, their voices being drowned by the river. What little I do hear doesn't fill me with confidence.

"I think we… How hard can... just one… not much blo..." It's Clove talking, gesticulating with her arms and playing with her knifes.

Glimmer gives her a stare and an answer. What? I don't know, but from Clove sudden stillness it most likely an insult. Reminding me of something Peeta once told me: Clove always goes still before a kill. It's hard to spot, but it's there if you look. For a moment I thought she was going to kill Glimmer, hope and horror growing inside me. Hope; for it would mean that the bow could be mine. Fear; for what it would mean for Peeta's continued safety. - The pack was nearing its end. Peeta needed to get out of there.

Instead of killing Glimmer Clove kicks something into the water. At first I don't understand what it is, not until I see it floating downstream. It is Rue's net, meaning that the girls are staying put in case she comes back while the boys hunts her.

They _had _found her, but are afraid that she might be getting away. Trying to cut off her chances.

I smirk as I think about it. Rue is fast, even faster than me. If she got a head start not even Marvel could catch her. Her chances increases even more since the careers left their two long-distant-hunters behind. The thought comforts me and I start looking for a way to leave unnoticed. Wanting to head into the woods and find Rue's tracks.

Before I could leave noises is heard upstream. It is Marvel joining the girls on the riverbank. He is waving for the girls with his sword and they go to meet him. I have to crawl out of the bush and half-rise to still see them. What they talk about I don't hear, but from his smirk any hope I have dies. He seems very pleased with himself and are clearly bragging in front of the others. They head into the forest and leaves me behind.

I wait until I can't hear them anymore before moving. Only leaving my spot when I deem it safe enough. Carefully I walk down to the river, scanning the area for clues. Finding nothing but footprints and a half eaten apple.

I'm left with the decision of following them or leave.

I chose to follow. I made my decision when I called out for Rue, I'm not leaving her to die.

They stick close to the river, not going too far into the forest. Marvel guiding the girls. With the threat of them spotting me or another career appearing I walk carefully. For most part I'm in a half-crouch, walking from tree to tree, using every bush or hill I can find to my advantage.

Marvel and Clove almost discover me on several occasions, but for some reason I'm not discovered. No matter how small my chances are and the risk of detection growing for every step; I'm not willing to give up until I've hear the cannon. As long as it is silent that means Rue still lives.

We walk for some time, none of them seems to be in a hurry. Glimmer takes her time eating some bread, Marvel to stab at trees and Clove to play-throw with her knives. It is far easier to follow them that way, especially since their jackets glow in the greenery, making it possible to maintain a great distance. Then I hear shout from up ahead, close to the river. It gleaming water shining between the trees. It's a shout of greeting, a male one that is calling his friends to join him.

Clove breaks away first, starting to jog towards the left and I have to angle my body behind a tree to remain unseen. Glimmer and Marvel joins her. I spot Cato as he greets them, he is leaning on a tall tree, seemingly relaxed. That worries me.

Glimmer walks up to him and gives him a kiss. For a few minutes they stay underneath the tree, greeting one and other. I'm not concerned about hearing them, just at being seen. The place they have picked is far more open than what I like. I'm still mostly hidden, but if I want to get closer they will have no trouble spotting me.

I don't see Noah or Peeta, most likely they are back at the Cornucopia protecting the supplies. Meaning that there is no way for me to warn him of the failing alliance. I focus on the careers that I do see, Cato seems to showing the others something. He is circling the tree with Marvel joining him, while the girls seem to be angling their heads upward.

After finding a white oak I start to climb, wanting to get an overview. The tree is a bit barer than I would like, but it give me a good height. I might still be seen, but they have to look closely. When I can see the tree they are so interesting in I don't see anything at first. It's not until she moves that I spot her.

Our roles has become reversed.

Rue is stuck up in a tree, close to the water, but too far away from anything else. She is hiding behind one of the high branches, trying to protect herself from arrows, knives and spears. I close my eyes in despair, the injustice filling me with anger.

The careers won't go away and they have the benefit of the terrain. They can wait her out. The only chance I have at saving her is to wait for nightfall, hopefully I can get to her from the riverside. The careers doesn't know we're a team, giving us a small chance. However, that all depends on Rue waiting for me. From what little I see she hasn't a choice, but I know what your mind does to you when you are cornered.

So far it seems the tree is too high to climb. The tree trunk is also too thick to chop down. Hopefully they don't start a fire and smoke her out. Since Cato didn't think of it the first time we might be lucky. I cross my finger just in case.

I stay up in the oak for an hour, watching them. They try shooting at her, but she is too small, the branches protecting her. Neither can Clove's knives get to her. They try a few other methods, but no fire. In the end they take a break and sit around the trunk. Most likely planning the next step.

I climb down the tree and sneak away. Heading towards the river, moving upstream and away from sight. At one point I believe they have discovered me. I feel eyes on me, but can't see anyone. Must be the Game Makers wondering what I'm doing. My answer becomes apparent when I reach the river and start removing my jacket and boots. It's not the best spot to try this, but its close enough that I might react if anything happens.

The current isn't as strong here as it can be, but I will still struggle to stay afloat. For now I will just try the plan, see if I can manage the current. I don't even get two meter out before the river tries sucking me down. Proving how useless my plan is; I'll have to find another way. Wading back to the bank I get up on land before disappear into the forest again, my jacket and boots in my hands.

As soon as I'm passed the brushwood I walk right into him. He looks as surprised as I do.

**Peeta**.

He is standing before me holding firewood.

We stare at each other. Neither knowing what to do. The entire world disappears and my shoulders start shaking. I can feel the tears coming and bite my lips to stop it. He has gained some weight and looks fine. The sight of him make everything so much worse. What will we do now? Fight?

Peeta makes the decision. Looking around and making sure that we are alone he gently place the firewood on the ground before taking five quick steps towards me. Embracing me and the moment his strong arms is wrapped around me I start crying. I clinging to his very being while biting into his shoulder to stop the noise from being heard.

I'm disgusted by my weakness, but I need him. He is hushing me and combing his finger through my hair. It is painful and yet wonderful. I never want him to stop. He whispers nonsense to calm me, telling that everything will be alright. I know that he is lying, but soak up the comfort.

We can't linger like this. The others must expect him in any second and we have things to talk about. I push him away and take a step back. Taking control of myself and becoming cold once again. He looks saddened by my act, but allows it.

Soon the reality of our situation sinks in for him and he starts to look nervous, wondering what I will do. Now he has to face me as a tribute, not as a comrade. This time it is I that makes the first step; asking him something that I've been wondering for days.

"You're leg?"

He looks surprised at me before placing his right hand over the wound.

"He only stabbed the side, missing all the vital muscles." He answers in low voices, worried that somebody might hear us. "It was mostly just skin he got, I just screamed a lot for extra effect."

His attempt to downplay his injury makes me snort before shaking my head. To me it had seemed like a clear hit but it might have been because of the blood.

"So they let you live because?" He had still been wounded, why they allowed him to live still plagues me. It might change in an instant.

"Cato decided. He wanted to find you and I could still walk." He gives an ironic smirk at that. "I've been the one tracking you these last few days."

"You can track?"

"Haymitch." Is all he gives me and it tells me more than a thousand words. Of course he would help Peeta. I give him a quick smile at the revelation before focusing on other things. Our time was running short and I still had something important to say.

"Clove almost killed Glimmer. The pack is dissolving. Take what you can get from the supplies and get out of there. You have a day or two at most."

He only nods, his eyes telling me that he has noticed. I can see that he is afraid, the forest isn't his friend. I look away, towards Rue's direction. He turns to look as well. Guilt making his back fold forward.

"It's." I start before the words just stop. What was I going to say? That it is alright that he will help kill her. That he will help them get her down and end her life. By the look Peeta gives me he sees what I was about to say.

"I'm sorry." Is all he says. I nod.

"You should head back to them." I say and take another step away from him. "They will still keep you safe for a bit longer."

"I might..." He starts before my empty look stops him.

"You survive longer with them." I kick the woods at our feet. "As long as you're useful that is." Forcing myself to suppress my emotions.

"I could go with you." He whispers. Eyes holding longing, but his body remains firm and proud. He will not beg.

My soul does, it begs me to let him. That we can make a packed, but I promised Rue that she would be safe. If I also have to care for Peeta I won't be able to sacrifice us. My love for him would win over what is right. _*If he's with me I can't be the Katniss I need to be to get Rue through this.*_

"I can die for her." I whisper, staring into his eyes. My voice carrying in the wind, making him shiver. "Not for you."

_*Lie.*_

My words have him retreating. Which is good. I need him to leave, he is screwing everything up. With every breath he reminds me of what we can have, but I _can't_. I already lived in Rue's place once. I will not do so again. If that means killing every emotion inside of me I will.

I _do_!

"I can." He tells me as he starts collecting the firewood. When he rise my face cracks, the tears moisten my eyes, making my sight blurry; I do not let them fall this time. His words tearing my armor to shreds.

"I can die for you." He whispers before leaving.

I let him go, even with thousand and more words tumbling around inside my brain. Begging to be let out. I push them down.

Rue.

My first priority is Rue. Everything else comes next. I can fall apart later. After I've saved her.

...

Since Peeta spotted me I hurried away. Even if I do trust him, his wounded feeling might lead him to tell the others about me. I know I would have.

I don't let my emotions cloud my mind. The river was out, meaning that I needed another way to save Rue. The question being what? After being gone for so long and running into a career (even if it was Peeta) I headed back to my oak. Climbing it again to get an overview of the situation.

Rue was where I left her, the careers camping below. Now joined by Peeta and a small fire. I take position to think. I have several crazed plan forming, none of them any good. In the end when nothing else is coming to me I look to the sky. Giving out a silent plea to Haymitch. When nothing comes I can hear him in the silence.

_You can't save her._

The anger is boiling inside me and I silently shout back.

_Watch me old man. _

I don't rush into anything. I stay put and stew over the situation. It is still daylight out, but the night is setting. The sun is lowering on the horizon and if I'm lucky the entire camp will fall asleep; allowing Rue to just walk away. That would be a good escape plan: just wait for your fellow tribute to snooze. Wonder if Cato would be willing to comply?

An hour goes by without any of us moving. The careers are preparing for the night while Rue is trying to get warm. I can see her desperate attempts to gather leaves to protect herself from the night shill. Smart girl.

At one point she moves to far out of the protective layer of leaves and Glimmer shot an arrow at her. The terrified scream she made will haunt me forever, even if the arrow missed. My heart went up my throat and for a second I stopped breathing as I saw its path.

Her scream seems to have egged the tributes on. They try to get at her by throwing knifes and rock, hoping to scare her out of the tree. My anger grows for every attempt, but I can control it since none of them hit their mark.

Then Cato does something unexpected. He thinks. At first I don't get it, but from the gathering of the pack I get that something is about to happen. Cold fear grips me as I look at their camp fire. They will smoke her out; but that isn't what Cato has in mind.

Breaking away from the others him and Marvel take position underneath Rue. She is more than twelve meters above them, protected by several thick branches. Glimmer walks over to them and they lock a grip before she climbs on. They heave her up on their shoulders and when she is stable they single for Clove and Peeta. They walk over, Peeta slower than Clove.

While Marvel and Cato holds Glimmer stable Peeta helps Clove climb up the trio, using his strength to keep her up. The plan is becoming clear and my chest contracts as they work. Clove is soon standing on Glimmer shoulders, clearly causing her pain, even from her lit frame. She is still too short to reach the first branch and I find myself hoping they'll fail.

Clove seems to have realized the shortage and are shouting to Cato. He, Peeta and Marvel close fits around Glimmers ankle and with all their strength lift them a little bit longer. It is still too short and I'm beyond relieved. The branch they are aiming for is still a meter away from her grip, she won't get to it.

Rue has also seen their plan and have started climbing upwards. Seeking protection amongst the weaker branches. Clove won't give up though. She takes out something shiny, probably her knives and stick them into the bark above her. With that she starts climbing the rest of the way. Soon she has reach the branch and are clinging to it. Hoping with every inch of me that she will fall Clove manage to climb to safety.

The branch holds and Clove is up in the tree.

With Rue.

Just meters away.

Rue screams in terror, her voice scaring the wildlife. Several nearby birds take flight, making me jump. As Clove's climb up I'm climbing down; knowing that Rue only got minutes and I must do something. ANYTHING.

Just as I reach the ground and take off running towards them another scream is heard, then another and another. I push myself to go further and I'm getting closer, I can see the boys standing underneath the tree with Glimmer, their faces becoming more detailed for every step. I have no plan; only my instincts and they are screaming at me to get close. My breath is shallow and I'm overcome by worry, but I don't stop running.

_*I'm coming Rue.*_ this wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to watch her die again. She was meant to live. Only now her screams are tearing the illusion to shreds.

Then another shout is heard; it's Peeta. I stop dead in my tracks. Only meters away from the others. Even now they are focusing too much on the action ahead rather than the area around them, meaning they missed my mad dash. My eyes zero in on him; he is standing behind the others, closest to me. All of them watching the river. Why?

My eyes flies up the tree, looking for Rue's dark fluffy hair. It is hard to see, the light is disappearing fast as the night is coming. The tree appears empty except for Clove; Rue is gone. My mind believes the worst at first, but still - no cannon goes off. The pack remains vigilant of the water and I'm left clueless. The tree isn't close enough for Rue to have jumped. Or is it?

If Rue was high enough when jumping, _if she did_, she might have gotten far enough to land in deeper water. But the impact would be hard and if she was to close to the bank the ground might kill her. I join the others in staring, not even thinking about my own safety. Trying to see any sign of life, losing hope for every passing second.

Then it is Marvel that gives a shout and heads off towards the river. The others soon sees what he has, following him as I'm left behind; still trying to see. Suddenly: THERE! In the middle of the river and already swept away by the current is Rue. She is conscious and struggling to stay above surface. Her scream reaches us at the same time as Glimmer lifts the bow to aim.

I'm about to shout for her to stop, but Cato lays his hand on hers before I can. They look at each other and I can imagine their bloodthirsty smirk. Glimmer lowers the bow. They will allow the river to kill her. They know she doesn't stand a chance in the current. She's too weak.

Sprinting forward and to the side I bypass the other tributes; all of them giving of startled shout as I run past them. I'm throwing of my jacket, knowing that I need as much mobility as I can get. My position becoming even direr when an arrow sip passed my face. The careers has taken up the chase, let see if they will brave the water.

My blood is burning in my veins and my hands are shaking, as are my legs. I'm scared, cold and in shock. What I'm about to do is a death sentence, but still I run. I'm in mortal danger right now and I don't care as long as I can reach Rue. She still struggling, gasping for breath. I scream her name and don't stop.

She sees me when I reach the bank, the careers just behind me. She screams my name and goes under. I don't stop to think, diving right in, grateful for the deep water that appears all around me. _*So that's why she lived.*_

The water is ice-cold and is a shock to the system. I take in water before gaining control over myself. I have no chance to swim in this current, but do my best to stay close to the surface in spite of the water pounding on me. I need to get as far out as I can get; the careers might be just behind me.

When the need for air becomes too great I try to reach the top, managing to break the surface on my third attempt and greedily breathe in the evening air. The careers are right in front of me, up on the riverbank and watching us being taken. None is following us. I turn from them and look for Rue, the waves of the water making it hard to see; I have to rely on sound.

Rue is still screaming and it does sound close. I try to steer myself in her direction, a feat easier said than done. The water suck me under and spits me back up again several times before I can even get a proper bearing. Nothing like the calmer water we played in earlier today.

My time is running out. The water is slowly shutting down my limbs, making it harder to stay afloat. I'm taking in more water than air, my system being overflowed. I need to find Rue soon and get onto land. Just as I think this another current steals me, sucking me under and pressing me down into darkness. How long I'm under I can say, but when I can breathe air again my lungs is burning from the lack of oxygen.

As soon as I have enough air I scream for Rue again. She answers. Close by and breathless.

She's running out of strength.

I'm swept under again, but this time I go with the current. Rue is up ahead and I think we are in the same one. I try to spot anything in the darkness and not drown. Just as I break the surface again I see a glimpse of her. She is right next to me. Before she can be swept away I grab her. She screams in fear.

"Rue it's me."

"Katniss."

"I got you. Hold on."

She about to say something as we are swept under again. This time it doesn't' take long before we surface. She is clinging to me and gasping for air.

"There. There." She tries to say, before a scream breaks over her lips. Blood flying across my face. I almost let go of her in shock.

"RUE."

"There's mutts." She manage to scream before we are under again. I see them. They are circling us. Being drawn by Rue's blood.

They are about an arm length is size, purplish in color and has no eyes: they look like a cross between a worm and leech. I don't see their bite, but I feel it. Like thousands of tiny teeth drilling into your skin. I scream in fear and grab on to Rue as I start to kick at them. Trying to push them away.

We break the surface again and look at each other. Rue has gone beyond terror, her eyes are huge and almost completely white. Her face ashen from the fear and I huge her close, trying to find the words to calm her, even as I feel the monsters attacking us again.

We fight the mutts and the currents for a long time, failing miserably at both. When my lungs can't take the strain any longer and my limbs starting to give up on me a gentler current steal us away. It feels warmer than the others and it is not long before I can feel hard rock underneath my feet.

I try to rise, but fall over. I try again, dragging Rue with me. Not knowing if she's still alive. With what little strength I have I manage to lift my head. What I see is rocks, right in front of us is a huge one laying in the river; right in our path. We hit it hard, but I manage to grab it before we are pulled away. Throwing Rue up onto it before following. I have to kick one of the mutts away, but finally we are safe.

Just to be safe I drag us up further and when I can't move any longer I succumb to the pain and tiredness. The night is just about fallen as I slip away.


	15. Chapter 24

_This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvellous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with._

_I make no profit..._

_._

_._

_._

**Chapter 24**

When I regain conscious again I'm lying in a curled position on a cold and hard surface. I can't remember how I got here or why everything's moving. To make matter worse everything's dark and I'm fairly certain that my eyes are open. One thing _is _certain; the careers' are hunting me.

I try to rise and cramps washes over me. I grit my teeth to prevent a scream. Bile rise in the back of my throat and I feel helpless in this darkness: The bile has an odd taste to it - like fish oil. It brings back the memory of the Ealmutts. Their bites could have been poisonous, explaining the memory loss and cramping limbs. The thought calms me. Ignoring the pain I stick two finger in my mouth and make myself sick. I spew until I'm dry heaving. It smells horrible, but I feel better afterwards; the cramps dissipate.

Everything feels raw, but now I can move. Shaking my head weakly I rise into a sitting position. My breath is strained at first, but as I lift my torso the pressure eases allowing fresh air into my lungs. The first thing I do is stroke my finger over my eyes, searching for an explanation to the darkness. I can't feel any bumps or cuts but I'm certain that I can sort of see my fingers. With new hope I look around me in search for a light. It doesn't take me long until I spot my first star and a smile breaks out over my face. The reason why I couldn't see anything is because it's **night**.

Relieved I carefully stretch, letting the bones crack into alignment. Still stiff I get up on my feet. My legs barely supports me, but I manage to remain standing. My clothes are soaked, smelly and clinging uncomfortably to my thin frame. I sigh. With the night being chilly I can't remain in the wet clothes. It might send me into shock. I don't get far in the disrobing, all I can manage is the removal of my boots, socks and T-shirt before it becomes too much. I'm left with a thin sports-bra and a pair of wet pants, both which have seen better days.

Holding the other pieces in my lap I try to figure out what to do with them. The river is right next to me so I move over to try washing the pieces clean. Leaning over the edge I begin dipping the clothes. I don't waste much energy on it, only so the stench is lessened before leaving them to dry. Now I set out to explore. Slowly moving towards what looks like trees, holding out my hands for extra protection. The unforgiven stone bites into my bare feet so I try to step lightly along the surface.

I've hardly walked ten steps before coming across something soft, which moans in pain as I stumble over it. When the sound register as human all my memories starts flowing back. **RUE**. I hurry to look her over; crying out for her to wake up as I kneel at her side. Rue's wet and cold, surrounded by a stench of copper and bile. My guess is she threw up while unconscious. I quickly turn her over to the side, remembering my mother's lessons about blocked airways. When I'm certain her breathing stabilizing I start feeling her over, dragging my fingers over her face and hair in search for trauma.

Her black hair is plastered over her face, but I can't feel any bumps or open wounds. Worried I bite my lip while smacking her lightly on the cheek. Calling out her name in a soft tone, trying to get her to wake up. I get nothing out of her. I start to crawl over to her other side in hopes of a better position, but I glide on a sticky liquid which makes me nosedive into her chest. She screams in pain. As I rise I can feel blood covering me, the taste getting into my mouth. I gag in disgust. Rue is haemorrhaging blood. My mind almost shuts down when the realisation sets in. It's only the sudden surge of adrenaline that keeps me focused. I quickly set out to find the cause, knowing that her life is on the line.

Her neck and upper torso is fine, some minor scratches and bites. I can't find anything around her sides or stomach and her legs is uninjured to. While I work a thousand thoughts flimmer by in my mind; why there is so much blood? Is it the poison? Will she live? What am I to do? The thoughts stops cold when I find the fiend to her pain. It's located on her back, right below the left lung. A long and jagged wound where hot blood gushes at every beat. Rue whimpers as I touch it and I have to force myself to breathe. From the amount of blood an aorta must have been hit. If I don't stop the bleeding Rue will die.

With no time to spare I unzip her jacket and remove it with some force. The moment it's off I start ripping it apart; trying to make compresses. When I have enough I hurry to apply pressure. Trying not to think about the bacteria that's on every piece as I struggle to stop the bleeding. It becomes apparent that I'm not strong enough to stop the bleeding when a small trickle leaks from the corners. I can't apply the right strength; my hands are weak and trembling, but I don't stop trying. To make matters worse Rue starts waking up; soft noises of pain and fear coming from her as she tries to move. I shush at her while patting her hair with my free hand.

"It's okay Rue. I'm here. You are safe." My words helps to calm her a little.

I try to apply more pressure, but it only result in a scream and my hand slipping. Cursing I try to find the wound again and at the same time keep Rue still. She's trying to crawl away from me so I have to curl my body around hers in a hug. She's too weak to fight me. It feels horrible to be causing her so much pain. I try to remain strong, but my own panic is growing.

"You are wounded, but I've stopped the bleeding. You just need to rest now." I whisper to her. "Everything will be just fine." I trying to sound convincing, but the blood flowing underneath me tells another truth.

"Ka..." She tries to speak, but I shush her while changing the blood-soaked compress for a new one. She flinches as I press it over her wound. "... Birds?" She mumbles.

I have no idea what she means until I start listen. It's a soft melody in the air, singed by a flock of mockingjays. They're curious creatures and our screams must have lured them close. Frustrated I shout for them to be go away, but they have no fear so the singing continues.

"Beautiful." Rue manage to get out.

"Rue, you just stay with me."

"Katniss." She whispers, her vocals breaking as she struggles to form words. I take up a new compress and press it against the wound.

"I need you to be strong for me. Just stay awake and everything will be fine" I bring our foreheads together, almost feeling her life slipping away.

"I wish… wanted... see my mother..." She stutters. Her words cutting me to the soul. "I to… to say good..." Blood comes out of Rue's mouth as she starts coughing from her efforts. I have to force myself not to flinch away at the sight.

"You will be okay. I promise. I will get you through this, you just have to stay with me. I will get you home. I just need you to _live_." I can feel Rue's stare, it's like a world of dying people are asking why I'm not stronger.

"Stay with me." I moan.

"She… sang to me… sick." Rue gets out. Tears falling for her mother. Probably seeing her as she stares into the night. I look to the sky for help.

"Haymitch." I scream. "_Please_." I mimic, knowing he won't answer. Not for her. He's too pragmatic to waste time on the dead. Still, I try.

"You... win." Her voice is so soft that I barely hear the words. A broken vail breaks free from my soul as I take them in.

"No, no, no, no. It won't be me; it's **you**. You just need to stay awake." I bite back, ignoring her as she tries to argue. In the end she closes her eyes and gives me a nod. I change the compress again, not even looking at the mess.

"It hurts." She mumbles. I take her hand in mine, latching our finger together.

"That's good. It means you're alive." I mumble back. She starts shaking. It takes me a moment to realise she's trying to laugh.

"What did you mother sing for you Rue." I ask when she quiets. I can feel her trying to speak, but the energy is gone. So we just sit there, embracing one another. Then a blipping sound is heard and a gift sails towards me. Joy break out and I happily shout to Rue that help has arrived. She manage to open her eyes when the noise penetrate her daze. I release my hand to catch the gift, struggling with the hatch. All hope dies when the two pieces falls apart and the content is revealed.

"_Katniss_?" Rue mimes, but I don't answer her question; too busy trying to understand what this means. I'm quick to hide the content when she tries to feel for it, being too weak to lift her head.

"It's a shot." I manage to press out. "I hate needles."

"Not… f… you." She gasps as spasms sets in. Her last energy spent on those two words.

"No. It's not for me." I nod solemnly. The lie almost destroys me. There's no needle; there's no medicine: only a small note. One that meant nothing to me. I school my face from showing the truth, pretending to be mixing with something. I talk about anything that comes to mind. Keeping us both distracted while trying to stall for time. _*What did it mean?*_

_[~I'll keep you safe~]_

Safe from what? For who? Not even Haymitch was this obstructive with his messages. I can't make heads or tail of it. That is until Rue cough again and an old memory stirs. The song... her mother's song must be "_I'll keep you safe_." But I don't know the lyrics - or do I? A weak memory sneaks up on me. Of me walking down a street in Eleven with Rue's little sister. Of a mother that had sung it for her sick baby as we passed. I can barely recall the words, but I remember being enchanted by its beauty. Slowly few of the verses comes to me and I find myself humming softly.

"Rue, I will give you the shot now. You might not feel it since you are weak, but it will heal you." I lie to her while gathering my courage. Her answer comes in the form of a small nod. "You'll feel better soon." I mumble before pinching her leg hard. She gives a twitch, meaning that she felt it. I want to cry, but I won't allow myself. I can do that later. For now, let the girl think she's going to live. That her family will see her again. After all somebody paid a heavy price for it.

"I have a song I can sing while it's working." I whisper before glancing at the note one last time. _*I can at least give Rue and her mother this.* _

"I think you might like it." I continue before humming the tune louder. My voice is thick with emotion as I start, but soon the rhythm takes me over and I lose myself in the words.

_I'll keep you safe_

_Dear little child_

_There's no need to worry _

_So hold out your hand_

_Can you feel the weight of the world you hold?_

Rue's eyes glister in the pale night light. Happiness and sorrow combined. I don't stop singing.

_My heart and my soul is yours_

_Don't be afraid_

_For love is great and wonderful _

_I promise you_

_... _

_I'll keep you safe underneath the Rosen gate_

I can't remember the whole piece, but I just continue to hum at the blanks. Letting the melody tell what I can't. The tune is slow enough that some of the Mockingjays joins in on the singing. Making the verse even more powerful for its lone listener.

_Darkness may come but I'll chase it away _

_For the world is yours _

_And it's light and safe_

_The bitterness of winter will give way for you_

_The sweetest of springs_

_..._

_You are a jewel_

_And I'll keep it safe_

Rue smiles as she closes her eyes, her breath slowing down. She is slipping away. I continue to sing.

_As you glimmer in this world and gives it light_

_I be your shadow_

_Guarding you day and night_

_..._

_My sweetest spring_

_You are masterpiece and I'm your knight_

_..._

The song ends, I can't remember anything more, but I don't need to - Rue is lying dead in my arms. Still. Heavy. Silent. I finally allow myself to cry. The Mockingjays have picked up the song and carries it onwards, it's sweet and tragic melody flowing over the river.

I hope her mother hears it: taking comfort that her daughter heard her even miles away. I look to the sky, letting the darkness absolve me as I scream. I only stop when her cannon goes off, the boom echoes over the arena. A signal that another tribute has fallen. Soon her Image hangs in the sky, her dark and scared eyes gazing over the arena. With tears still flowing I get up, looking around for something to do: a purpose.

I should leave, but can't bring myself to. The thought of her last image being this bloody corpse is unbearable. She and Eleven deserves more, no matter the risk. I slowly walk over to the treeline and start searching for material. It takes some time to find the fern, flowers and moss needed, but once collected I set to work; using the fern to create a forest-floor around her and the Marigold-flowers into a halo place over her forehead. To cover her bloodstained clothes I use the moss, giving her a dress that Cinna would envy.

Knowing that the Capitol is forced to show every minute I make another trip, this time to collect small glowing flowers growing amongst the rock-cracks. As I lay them around her it creates an illusion of clouds. It brings a sad smile to my face, one that quickly dies. I try not to think about the people responsible for her passing, the anger is still too fresh and raw. In the end I just stand over her while saying my goodbye. Then I turn my back and leave, only pausing to pick up my wet boots. Soon the forest has swallowed me and I welcome its dark embrace, feeling dead inside.

It's not long until the anger catches up with me. It bring me to my knees and feels like hot lava in my veins. It's strangely soothing to feel so much hatred while appearing numb out-worldly. Rolling onto my back I stare at the stars above. There isn't much else to do and it's the only way I can deal right now. These last few hours has been the hardest ones since coming back and I just need to feel everything and nothing all at once. I lie there for hours, without caring. Only getting up when one memory slowly takes presidency over the rest: The image of Clove, Glimmer, Marvel and Cato laughing as Rue is swallowed by the river; their satisfied smirks wakes my will to fight. They had no idea what terror they brought forth. I will make them pay for this.

What would happen if you took all their security away? We had done that once before; Rue and I. I could do it again as a tribute to her. I pause at the thought. It's dark and familiar. Isn't this what lead to the rebellion last time? Do I want that? I give a sigh while shaking my head. The questions has layers of meaning, but one thing is certain: I can't let the careers' get away with this.

An idea take shape, one that will give the careers' a pause and play by the rules. All I need to do is find them and I know where they headed. Right towards me since they would have followed the river, unwilling to let us get away alive. I get up and look around, I can see my footprints in the dirt and with care I follow them back towards Rue.

It's time for a Game.

…

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Many of you might be upset over me changing the song, but to me it felt natural. This is another timeline, Katniss has no real reason to sing the song if Rue had a special request; so I found another one.


	16. Chapter 25

_This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvellous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with._

_I make no profit…_

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Chapter 25

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The forest is a lonely place to be walking in at night. Darkness is lurking everywhere and despite the natural nightlife it feels eerily quiet. Every step I take echoes, testing my already shaky nerves. I doesn't help that I'm half-naked do to ruined clothes. Or that I'm starving _or _that I'm in a terrible state emotionally and physically. To distract myself I try to remember how many there's left of us now that Rue is dead. I get it to a total of nine from the original twenty four. Glimmer, Marvel, Clove, Cato, Noah, Thresh, Foxgirl, Peeta and I. No wonder the Gamemakers' are speeding things up. The people in the City must be wanting a closer in the coming days. It feels surreal just thinking about it.

It leaves me with a _very _small opening to scare the careers'... _and _getting Peeta to safety. Up until Rue's death I was willing to let him die in order to secure her win, but with her gone I'm might have a small chance of saving the both of us. I can at least try.

When I arrive at the river Rue's body is gone. I make sure that I'm alone before leaving the trees. I collect the smelly wet clothes and use them to erase any trace of my presence. I can't do anything about Rue's blood, but I want the careers guessing so I do my best. Once done I jump of the rocks and land in soft sand. I use what remains of the clothes to wipe away the footprints before throwing them into the river; they're useless now anyway. Needing a good lookout-point I start searching for a tall three, preferably an oak with big branches. I find an old birch that will do. Climbing is almost unbearable, but it has many smaller branches which helps.

I don't stop until I'm high enough to have clear view in all directions. Settling down on a thick branch I rest my back against the trunk and wait for light or signs of approaching tributes. I try to relax since it might be hours, but they will come. If not I guess a trip to their camp is in order. While waiting I think of Prim, grateful that she's home and safe. I hope mom didn't let her see my struggle in the river… or Rue's death. Both would fill her with guilt and that is the last thing I want for her. Not that it would help telling her that, she's as stubborn as Peeta. A tired chuckle breaks out over the last thought. Peeta never quits on the people he loves, even if they are willing to let him die to save a child. _*I should never have let him stay with them.*_

The moment the thought cross my mind the cannon goes off. I lose my grip from the surprise, but manage to save myself from a nasty fall by grabbing at the tree-trunk, feeling the hard bark cutting into my flesh as I hang. For a few heart stopping moments I believe I will fall before finding new perches. Relieved I sit down on the branch, this time with more care.

I wait for an image to appear, trying to push aside the feeling of dread. Praying it isn't Peeta. I wait and wait but there is no image. It seems like the Gamemakers wants us guessing from now on. Just thinking it might have been Peeta is unbearable. Together with Rue I could push him aside, but now I find myself sick with worry. I force myself to chew on leaves just to keep my mind elsewhere. Letting the sour taste and smell distract me.

The heaven is dark with a few stubborn stars shining brightly, but now more light has appeared. Most likely the Gamemakers manipulating the arena. I can actually see the mountaintops and tree-lines now, which will help me spot the careers'. Which is good since I'm the one that's going to scare them, not the other way around.

While waiting I go over my injuries, the bites has all but disappeared and the few scratches I have shown no sign of infection; much to my relief. What I have to worry about is food and water, my supply is gone and so are my weapons. I'd completely forgotten to drink before climbing and can already feel first signs of dehydration. If the sun raises before the careers' arrival I need to climb down and drink myself full, but not just yet. No need to lose a current advantage by tiring myself out just yet.

It's about an hour later when the first sign of them comes, making me thankful that I stayed put. They're laughing and making fun off each other, not caring about the noise in the wind. I bite my lip in irritation, they truly believe me weak if they're this reckless. As they move amongst the forest I try to spot Peeta, but I can only make out Glimmer. The rest is too well covered in the foliage. When the landscape change from forest to a more open area Clove and Glimmer follows the river's edge while the boys stay covered. This makes them the first to spot the blood. They call for the others and hurry over to study it.

Relief fills me when Peeta steps out of the forest; alive and well, his golden halo shining in the dark like the stars above. I drink him as if I'm dying of thirst, not letting him escape my sight. He stays back while the others circle the rocks, looking for clues. Clove and Cato are crouching over the blood while Glimmer and Marvel check the water edges. For some time they just mumble and walk around, trying to see if I'm close. I stay perfectly still, hardly breathing. I can't hear their exact words, but I make sure not to lose track on their progress.

…

_~DOWN BY THE RIVER EDGE~_

_..._

"I don't get it." Glimmer complains. "They should've been killed by the current or the rocks, how can she still be alive?" She looks over at the water and shivers in fright. Unwilling to get to close even if the water is calmer right where they are.

"She's always been a fighter." Peeta answers and takes a few step closer. Relieved to see that Katniss isn't visible even if she might be close. "She won't make it easy for us to find her." The others glance at him, clearly getting agitated at the thought.

"Then I guess it is about time we took care of the problem." Marvel drawls. Trying to pretend that they haven't been searching for Katniss before, only having failed miserably at finding her.

"How did you not see her?" Clove mumbles, flipping a knife in her hand - looking at Cato. "She was right behind you and you still had no clue."

"I was keeping an eye on 11, just like you; She's just really good at hiding I suppose, unlike others." Cato snarls back, towering over her in irritation. Ever since Katniss had managed to steal food and gotten away he had been trying to exert his power and leadership at every opportunity. Unwilling to show weakness amongst his pack of wolfs.

"Perhaps." Glimmer states doubtfully. "Or we were too focused on what was visible. Giving her chance to sneak up on us. AGAIN. She have a real skill for slipping by". Glimmer just shrugs at Cato's sour glare. She has no problem questioning their leader or their own pre-made opinions. While her ally might be willing to lie to himself, she strives for honesty. They had forgotten to watch there back and she rather acknowledge that then get a slit throat while sleeping.

"Hm. Marvel's right, we need to take care of her." Clove states while looking her fellow tribute. Challenge showing clear in her eyes.

"Shut it." Cato snaps. Getting fed up with his team. All he want to do is find the girl and end her.

"No. I won't. She might win this if we let her be." Clove snarks over Cato's head, unfearful of his temper. "Think about the chick who won the 71th Game. Who the hell expected that?" Her words has the others pausing, most likely in remembrance of the brutal killings done by Johanna Mason.

"There is no way that girl has such skills hidden away, we would have seen it." Cato snaps between clenched teeth while getting up. Anger exploding inside him at the very idea that he might lose.

"Maybe we were too focused on gaining sponsor to really see her potential. I can't really remember her standing out during practice, but she still got a Seven; didn't she?" Glimmer says out loud as she tries to remember.

"Yeah, she did. I think we have made a real blunder with that one." Marvel exclaims, surprised by the notion. "She has the love of the commoners in combination with several sponsors. Not a good thing."

"Riiight." Cato agrees reluctantly while looking thoughtful. "We should have killed her on the first day. She was easy picking back then."

"Does it matter now? She must be injured, half-starved and exhausted by now." Peeta jumps in. Willing to get them moving. He had been trying for days to make them underestimate Katniss and it was all falling apart. "She couldn't have gone too far."

"How far do you think she might have walked to feel safe?" Glimmer asks. Making him grateful since it gives him the perfect opening.

"Far enough that the trees would hide her. She isn't dumb. We have some of her tracks, why not just follow them?" He tells them and points to the forest. He knows that Katniss would never allow these clues to actually lead anywhere so they were safe to follow.

"We can't trust any seeable clues. This one knows how to hide her tracks." Cato reply. Looking at Peeta suspiciously, wondering if it was wise to let him live beyond this night.

"Then we split up and cover more ground that way. The first one to spot her gets the game." Clove suggests with a smirk, gaining support from Marvel and Glimmer. Making Cato forget about Peeta and study his real opponent.

"Isn't that risky? It would leave us vulnerable." Peeta voices, concerned at the risk of a divided group. It would make it harder, if not impossible, to protect Katniss. The mere thought made him sick.

"Not _us_." Clove gives him a bloodthirsty grin. Knowing that Peeta just forced Cato's hand. "We're trained for this, but if you're scared you can tag along with me." She taunts.

Peeta shakes his head in a negative and takes a firmer hold on the swords handle. The others just look away in silent disdain. Towards Cato for a decision. Knowing that there is no other choice Cato lets an evil smirk break across his face.

"There's not a lot to say… so let's play." Cato shouts. Howling at the sky and the others join in. Even Peeta in the hopes that Katniss will hear them and run.

_..._

_~back to Katniss~_

_..._

The howl reach me as I see Marvel and Cato splitting from the others. Walking downstream. Next to head out is Glimmer and Peeta; they start walking upstream before Glimmer signals to him to take the river-side while she the forest line. Clove takes the middle, walking straight in. Only pausing to make sure that all of them has a wide spread to move in before allowing the trees to hide her. They must be hoping to corner me faster using this method. A good plan if they were actually smart enough to look at _every _direction while searching. I could see them searching the ground and the bushes. Not a single glance upwards. This fills me with confidence.

This leaves me with five different directions. Clove's, Glimmer's, Cato's Marvel's or Peeta's. From the golden hair I can see from peeking out now and then option five is out. Glimmer is keeping a close watch on Peeta, not straying too far from his side. She's smarter than I had thought.

I look to the boy's direction. Hesitant to try it. Marvel and Cato are too powerful. The one closest in strength is Clove and since the others are staying together the decisions easy.

Climbing down is just as hard as climbing up, especially with scraped hands and broken nails. Unwilling to waste time I freefall the last meter and land on my hands and knees. I look around, afraid that someone might have heard. Nothing is moving and after a minute I dare to rise. Before going after Clove I run to the river and drink myself full. Only after do I break the treeline and start running after Clove. Trying to remain unheard I rush through the forest. The sound of the river helps to hide my approach. I find her walking in a brisk but focused pace amongst the trees, looking for clues with her eagle eyes. I make sure to remain behind her and at a distance. Clove has two gleaming knives in her hands and I don't want to get acquainted with them.

I might have a ten minute gap before they start to regroup. Staying hunched and hidden I follow, looking for an opportunity to strike. When we pass over a mud pit Clove goes around while I straight through. Since I have next to no clothes I need to cover up and the mud will hide my pale skin. Time passes and to keep focused Clove fires of knives at every sound she hears. One of them almost clips my ear. To my disappointment she makes sure to reclaim every knife. I'm close to giving up. Feeling exposed the more time I waste tailing her. It would be better to see if Glimmer has let up on her vigilance concerning Peeta.

Just then Clove calls out and in the distant I hear two-three answers masked as animal sound. It seems the call is a message to carry on because she keep going forward. Meaning the others aren't heading back either. It seems like I'm stuck with Clove a while longer. Since the calls didn't appear to be too close I have some room to move and sneak closer.

Secure behind a cluster of bushes I lie flat on my belly; long thick grass hiding me from all sides making me feel more secure. I take one blade of grass and break it off, folding it and place in between my lips and thumbs. I blow out and a hollowed sound carries in the air, eerily reminding me of the lizard mutts. If it scares me it should spook her. Glancing towards her I can see her pausing so I stop. I don't want her to find me after all.

Clove look for clues, but can't figure out what's going on. I take pleasure in the confusion she must be experiencing. In the real world this would be nothing, but this is _the Games; _anything can kill you at a moment's notice. Something we tributes are deadly aware off. When she starts moving again I repeat the trick and again she pause, crushing down and looking around. Very and guarded.

"Guys, if that's you I'll kill you." She snaps between clench jaws. No answer comes.

I smirk. Her calm is being torn apart by a measly sound. For a while I keep it up; sneaking after her and making the sound. Sometimes close and sometimes far away. It's damaging her calm. In the end she explodes. Letting lose all her knives in hopes that the animal will reveal itself. Or a tribute. I'm safe behind a low elevation and they fly over me, but they are a sign to stop. Best to allow Clove to believe she's safe, anything else would leave me vulnerable to her impulses. While she's busy collecting the knives I snatch one up and attach it to my belt. I then make a hasty retreat before she come up with one knife missing.

As I move away I can hear her calling to the others. I look back and see her standing in a sloop. It won't allow the call to travel far enough. Clove is on her own. From the stiff posture I guess the same thought occurred to her. She starts heading back. Struck with an idea I hurry to get ahead of her. Climbing the first sturdy tree I find in her path. Getting into position I lie in wait, trying with the leaves to cover any exposed skin that might be seen in the nightlight. I'm dirty enough that it's not a major problem, but it still take a few seconds. In those Clove has gotten closer and I can spot her jacket between the trees.

She's in a hurry and I will only get one chance. Since I need bait to place her beneath me I drop the knife I just manage to steal. Its hilt pierce the ground below. Now I can only hope that she sees it and walks over. Standing on two thin branches I wait anxiously. This is a risky move with many dangers, but it's the best chance I'll ever have and I'm willing to risk it.

Clove spots the knife long before she passes it. I can see it as she pause. Likely in fear off an attack. I do my best not to move and show myself. She hesitantly walks in my direction, weighting every step and looking around. I could roll my eyes that not once does she look upwards. Soon she's only steps away and both of us can feel the tension growing.

A minute pass before she takes the last step and crouch to pick it up. I let go of the tree and fall. For a second our eyes meet and then I land on her. My body knocks her over, pressing her into the ground with an ump. I lift my arms in preparation for a fight, but it doesn't come. Clove's unconscious. The moment feel anticlimactic, but I don't look a gift-horse in the mouth.

Hearing voices in the distant I set to work. It seems that the others have regroup and are looking for their missing comrade. I strip of her down; taking her jacket, sweater, dry boots and socks. I place all her knives in the jacket and tie it together with the sleeves. When I'm done I collect the bait-knife and start to shred the remaining items. This way she will be forced to walk naked to the Cornucopia. It will leave a lasting impression on all of them.

Fearful that the others might be getting closer I hurry to mask my tracks and take off running. Not away from the voices, but to the side. This way they won't see me and I won't have them behind me. I don't see the group as we pass, but I hear them. Glimmer is laughing and Marvel giving an odd shout now and then. They must suspect Clove to be lost. It will buy me extra time. I don't stop until I hear Cato's roar, weak in the distant but it still washes over me like a tidal-wave. Sending goose bumps over my body for I know he will be thirsting for blood, especially mine.

With careers' on my tail I sit down behind a large tree; I need to go over my loot before making the next decision and know it's the best time for it. Darkness is still covering the forest and I'm sure that my trails are well covered. I should have a half hour at the most before they start closing in on me again.

Hurriedly I untie the jacket and let the knives spill out. Going over them I pick out five that I like. Two short ones, a bigger hunting knife and two throwing knives. They will be good for scavenging, defence and hunting; much to my pride and joy. The others I burry so no one else can use them. Next I spread out the clothes, letting my eyes scan them over.

Holding up the sweeter I give it a critical look, it will be small, but it offer warmth so I slip it on. It's tight around the arms and neck, but I can live with that. The jacket is too colourful and it doesn't have the same stretch as the sweater. What it does have is a chocolate bar that I'm quick to consume.

With warm and sweet chocolate in my mouth I zip the jacket and turn it inside out; it's inside being a darker red. After rolling it a few times in the overturn dirt it's harder to spot and after tying its strings together I have a useful bag that goes around my belt. It won't be comfortable, but at least it's something.

Next I hold up her boots. They are of a better model and to my surprise, a good size. At most they will be a little big around the toes, but I can live with that. I hurry to remove my old ones and slip on the dry socks and boots. The warmth is welcomed and I happily tie the shoelaces.

The older boots gets tossed into a bush and left behind as I start looking for the river. It will guide me to the Cornucopia and their camp, my best guess is that the careers will head home; Peeta with them. If I can get there first I have a chance to get him away from them. And… I might even have the opportunity to blow up their food pyramid. That would really hurt the group and level the playing field.

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	17. Chapter 26

_This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvelous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with._

_I make no profit..._

**Chapter 26**

It takes the better part of the night to get to the meadow since I had gotten lost. Now night had given way to early dawn and I might have two, maybe three, hours before the sun rises over the valley.

Pushed to my very limit I finally see the Cornucopias tail sticking up between the trees. Soon I'm close to the forest edge. Since I haven't heard or seen any of the other tributes I take my sweet time to look around. When I spot the state of the camp it becomes clear whose life was forfeited earlier this night. Poor Noah. The pyramid is still unharmed, but everything else of value is gone or broken. A tribute most have caught on that the career's had left the camp and attacked their weakest link. Most likely Thresh, Foxgirl wasn't one for open attack.

Movements over at the Cornucopias entrance prevents me from scavenging the camp. It's Marvel stretching his muscles and jawing. I retreat a few steps to get better cover. I look around for Cato and the others; either they're inside or prowling the edges. After a few minutes Glimmer and Clove joins him at the opening, both looking as dirty and tired as him. They can't have been here long, something that becomes obvious when Peeta and Cato breaks the foliage close to the camp and stop dead in their tracks.

Cato throws his sword and let up a storm of curses heard across the field. He's soon in the middle of a rampage, throwing aside torn tents and broken items. The others stay away and let him vent. Peeta joins them.

Eventually Cato calms down and the group goes through the wreckage. Seeing that they have no energy to search the forest I head over to a raised rock. It gives a good vantage point and I can bask in their misery. This seatback will force the group to stay together, meaning I have time to rest: Peeta's not in an immediate danger anymore. Closing my eyes I lay down behind the rock, letting sleep claim me.

***.

I come awake to blinding light and silence. My instincts screaming _danger _and _death_. Sitting up so fast that several muscle crack I try to find the danger through tearful eyes. Only, there's nothing to there; the forest is calm. I must have been sleeping less than three hours since its late dawn. The soft touches of light shines down on me and everything looks fine. There's a dwindling fire outside of the Cornucopian. The tributes lying in a circle around it, sleeping while Marvel guards, half-asleep.

But the feeling won't leave me. So I turn suspicious eyes to the forest behind me, looking at the shadows and searching for life. Only, nothing is _moving_. There should be something, even if it's just a bird or bugs flying around.

I slowly stand on my tired legs and stretch out. I can't hear a thing. It can only mean something deadly is in the forest and I can venture a guess as to what. I turn towards a sleeping Peeta, weighing my options and feeling conflicted. In order to secure my own life I should find a tall tree to hide in. But that means leaving him and he doesn't have **that **much time.

Then the feeling of being watched comes and it has me panting in fear. My pulse speeds up until it sounds like a drum. I grab hold on one of the knives and slowly pull it free, tightening the grip when my hand trembles. I hear a twig snap in the distant and the urge to run is overpowering, but still I hesitate. It wins when another snap is heard, this time much closer. Exploding into action I throw myself away from the rock and take off in a mad dash; straight towards the meadow. It's the only safe place to go.

Marvel gives of startled shout as I break the forest line. I don't acknowledge it, but the others are awake in seconds. Cato rushes up with a war cry. I pass them and round the Cornucopia before Marvel can swing at me. Seconds later an arrow sails past, gracing over my shoulder. I push the sting away and keep running. I round to the tail and start searching for a spot to climb. I hear the careers' behind me, but then Peeta shouts a warning. Glancing back I can see several mutts appear. Sprinting towards us with drool hanging from their mouths. A whimper passes my lips.

The sight of them has all of us pausing. Then the panic comes. Glimmer screams in fear and fires of an arrow, she trips in her haste. Ignoring her plight I try to climb, but without Peeta's help I can't get a hold. Wildly looking for another way I see that we're cornered. The mutts has surrounded the Cornucopia.

For a breath nothings happen, then someone blinks and the mutts are on us. Another bloodbath breaks out. Careers' and Wolfmutts are fighting all around me, jaws open and weapons swinging. One of them jumps me when I try to break away. I throw myself to the side and manage to avoid being crushed under its weight. It does manage to claw me over the back and I grunt in pain.

Rolling until I'm standing I face the threat, my back screaming in pain. A smaller Wolfmutt has chosen me as its target. I stare into its eyes and see Rue's looking back with killer intent. My heart constricts for a second before I growl at the _thing_. Anger taking over. It runs at me, but this time I'm prepared and walk straight at it, shouting in defiance while swinging the knife in my hand. Surprised the creature jumps to the side before circling me, seeing if there's danger or not. It gives me the opportunity to see how the others are doing.

Peeta is standing with his back to the Cornucopia and stabbing a spear at the mutts, his strength and skill making them cautious. Marvel and Cato are swinging their swords with deadly accuracy, but still unable to kill the creatures. Their reflexes too quick for the muscular teens. Clove has better luck with her knives, she manage to wound them, but not mortally so. Their soft areas are too well protected. Glimmer's doing better there, her arrows drills into the mutts and she has managed to kill two.

Refocusing on the predator in front of me I try to find a weakness. It's growing more confident and it's a matter of seconds before it kills me. I try to collect my scrambled thoughts and appear threatening. Something that's hard because of our sizes. Its teeth's are bigger then my hands. As we prepare to attack one another a shout echoes over the meadow. It sound like Peeta and I turn to look, forgetting the mutt for a second. He's still holding strong, even if I can spot dark red blood on his right arm.

The shout came from Marvel; who is running in panic - _right towards the mines_. Time slows down. I can almost see the moment he steps on one. Light. Fire. The pressure-wave hits me like a concrete wall, sending me flying away from the Cornucopia. I don't even get the chance to scream. Then the blasts comes as I'm pressed into the ground. Dirt fills my mouth as the noise deafens. I can't hear a thing, I can't move. My head's ringing from the explosions. All around me fire billows outwards, the heat so hot that the metal starts bending on the Cornucopia. I close my eyes and try to become as small as possible. Then a body flattens me to the ground. Protecting me from the other bombs going off.

For a long time all I smell is sweat, fire and dirt. All I hear is his breathe and my own heartbeats as the fire roars its anger. I claw my hands into his arms and hold on until there's only silence and cold winds. Then a Cannon going off, followed by another and then another. Three tributes has fallen. I try to push my savior to the side, but the body is too heavy.

"Peeta, please move." I gasp.

A groan of pain is all I am met with before the body rolls to the side with a grunt. I gasp for air and gage as the taste of burnt flesh hits my tongue. I look at the devastation before me. The ground is black and burning. Thick smoke hides the sun and it's almost pitch black. Coughing I turn to Peeta. He's lying on his back and are holding his injured arm. Bitter tears creating streaks on his grey face. I get up on my knees and crawl to him, forcing his hand away. Four deep gashes leaps from his shoulder down to his elbow. His bleeding heavily. I use a knife to rip apart his shirt to create a bandage and a compress.

"That… That hurts Kat..." He manage to get out between shallow gasps before I hush him. We don't know if any mutts survived.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I whisper at him while tying a knot around the compress, then I start on the bandage. I give him a trembling kiss on the forehead when he whimpers.

"Can you stand?" I ask when I'm done. I will have to take a better look later, but now we need to get out of here.

"I think so." He whispers before taking hold of my offered hand, forcing himself to stand. "What's the plan?"

"Get out of here, that for certain. Then figure out who's dead." I tell him while checking him over real quick. No other bleeding wounds to be seen. "Lastly is to find a _good _shelter and some food. I'm starving."

Peeta gives me a nod before making his way towards the trees, in opposite direction of the wind. He's in a lot of pain, but I squash the sympathy and walk behind him. He still has the spear while I only the knives; so he has point. It's only when we are a good distance away from the fires that I come to a stop.

"Time for you to rest while I getter Intel. I will be back in 30 minutes." I whisper to him when he turns around to look at me. "In the meantime can you see if the bleeding's stopped or if there's any long leaves we can use later?"

Peeta's looks at me, but his eyes are unfocused. It takes him a moment before he understands the question, but instead of speaking he simply nods. I stay long enough for him to sit down, before jogging back to the meadow. I'm taking a stupid chance, but I'm tired of feeling vulnerable; I want that bow.

I come to a stop just at the beginning of the meadow. Most of the smoke has cleared and I can see several burned carcasses. Since no mutt attacks me I'm guessing that the Gamemakers has called the surviving back. Leaving only tributes as the remaining threat. With a knife in each hand I brave the battlefield. The smell is awful.

Cautiously moving towards the Cornucopia, I look for blond hair. It's the last place I saw Glimmer before the explosions. It's not _her _I find. It's Clove. She's lying in an awkward position at the opening of the Cornucopia. Alive, but unconscious. I stand over her, wondering if I should kill her. It would be so easy, but then I think about Peeta and Prim: How they would cringe away from the mere thought. So instead of killing her I drag her free and place her amongst some wet grass. Leaving her I circle the Cornucopia. I don't find anyone the first time; only burned mutts. Unwilling to give up I make another pass. I spot a tuft of blond hair in one of the dirt pits and cautiously approach. Cursing when it's not Glimmer, but Cato. His lying underneath a dead mutt and can't get free.

"Twelve." He growls as I walk over, crouching a good distance away.

"Two...How's your day going so far?" He stare at me before spitting in my direction.

"I will kill you."

I snort in dark amusement, seeing how hard it is for him to breathe. He tries swinging a sword at me, but the angle is all wrong. Cursing he throws it away in anger. I wait for a few seconds, but he doesn't move. It dawns on me that he might very well be dying under the weight, which would solve a major problem for me. I decide to leave him. With Clove there hadn't been a danger in helping; here it was so I had no calms with walking away.

_**Only! **_

As I rise I get an idea. If Cato dies our numbers would be down to four. Not much incentive for the Capitol to change the rules, but… if I let him live they might feel forced into doing something odd; even unheard of. It might be the thing Peeta and I need to make it out alive. Something I had stopped hoping for. The question now being; how to help him without getting killed? Looking around I search for inspiration. Not far from us there lies a piece of broken spears, with a rock I could try to lift the mutts body; allowing Cato to crawl out.

Or if I'm smarter, lift the body enough for Cato to breathe and then allow _Clove _to get him out later. It would be another incentive for the Gamemakers to change the rules. Hiding a smirk I set to work. The spears is hot to the touch, but still sturdy enough to work. The rock I find right next to Cato, on the other side of the pit. I roll it down to him which has him shouting in anger.

"Stop being an idiot and place it next to you; I'm not crawling in." I snap to him. He stares at me with hate, but after a few seconds do as he's told. "Good, now since I don't want to get killed how about you place your hand on top of the mutt and keep them there. I warn you, one wrong move and I leave you to die."

For a long time he just stares at me, unmoving.

"Grab hold you idiot. I will only offer it once." I don't get a verbal reply, he just places his hands on the burned fur above him.

I stand by Cato's head and keep a watchful eye on his hands. Carefully I place the spear under the mutt and angle it so the stone lies beneath. Then I press down with my weight. I can hear when it starts working. Cato takes in lungful of breathes and tries to wiggle out. When he's gotten far enough that his upper chest is free I let the beast fall again.

"What the fu..." He shout at me and move his hands. I pull back the spear and jump away. He misses me with inches.

"It will be enough. Clove will wake in a while and then _she _can help you." I snap back.

He tries to get free, but without the sword or the spear he's still stuck. I walk away from him without a word. I find Glimmer soon after. Her dead body lies among rubble and the dirt. The face has been blown off, all you can see is some blond hair and blood amongst the body parts. I turn away from her in disgust. If I had any food in my stomach I would have thrown up, instead I just gage. The bow is stuck underneath her and I have to drag it free. It's covered in blood, but I wipe it off, using the grass around me.

"Rest well." I whisper before leaving. Feeling it's appropriate even if she did help kill Rue.

I hurry back to Peeta. He's where I left him, half-asleep. I shake him awake.

"...The others?" he ask me, when he sees the bow.

"Clove and Cato is alive, the others didn't make it." I tell him. He only nods and climb to his feet.

"Can we get out of here now?"

"If you're up for it." I answer.

"... Just find me somewhere safe so I can sleep… " He mumbles.

"There is many holes and digs along the river." I tell him as we start walking

"Cato will search there."

"And that's why he won't go there. He will _overestimate _me from now on, so we should be safe." Peeta gives off a strangled noise at my words before limping towards the river. I quietly take my place by his side.

While walking I search for signs of food. I desperately need to eat something. My sight is getting blurry because of dehydration and hunger. Peeta is managing better, having eaten some before the attack. But he's stumbling and breaking sticks; he's too loud for any prey to stay put.

Dead on our feet we finally find a hollowed cave along the river. It small and low, but we manage to fit. I dig a deep hole in the dirt before making a spartan fire. I find some fresh leaves, and pieces of bark to hold water, so I can start nursing our injuries. First Peeta's wounds; the blood has stopped, but the area is red, swollen and smells wrong. I t reminds me to much of his leg. I take a long while to clean it out properly before placing the leaves over it. Then I use the last of his shirt to make a proper bandage.

"You sure there isn't any other injuries?" I search his eyes just in case he's trying to lie.

"The stab form my initiation, but Haymitch helped me fix it; it was a good cream."

I nod and leave it. I turn around and present him my back.

"You're turn. I need help with my back." He makes big eyes at this and it dawns on me that he hasn't seen any of my injuries yet. As I pull off the shirt I can hear his intake of breath. Glancing over my shoulder I see sorrow in his eyes.

"You shouldn't have gotten hurt." He whispers.

"There's more of that. I've gotten bitten by leeches-mutts and thrown against rocks; not to mention almost burnt alive and cut into a million little pieces." I grumble and stare at the walls. "I hurt all over, but the most immediate threat is the claw marks, so I need you to clean them."

At my words Peeta caress my shoulders and back, feeling the injuries covering my body. His breath stutters at every bump, bite or bruise he finds. By the time he's done I have goose bumps.

"Pass me the water." he asks and I do. He works with care and doesn't leave a speck of dirt behind. He places the leaves over the wounds and helps me get the shirt back on. "They will fall off."

"Yeah! But it will give me time to find something better and hunt for some food. I'm starving." At my words both our stomachs make loud noises, making us laugh in surprise. "How about some fish?"

At his nod I tell him to watch the fire while I head for the river outside. I find a good place with a lot of shadows and calm water. Standing on two small rocks poking out of the river I wash the bow. When it's clean I stop moving, just waiting for a fish to appear. The blood helps shorten the wait, within minutes I've shot three small fishes.

Drying of the bow and the arrows I gut the fish before making my way back to Peeta. Hiding our trail while doing so. Just because I think Cato will stay away doesn't mean he will, but for now there is just one thing on my mind - food. I come to a stop when trumpets rings over the arena: an announcement is to be made. I silently wonder if my ploy paid off.

I look to the sky. Seneca Crane appears in a hologram together with Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith. I stare in surprise. He has never _appeared _live before during the Game, only as a recorded voice mail. Hope blossoms within me.

"My dear **tributes**, we hear in the Capitol greet you. Marvelous work my little starlings." Caesar tells us as a greeting. "Something extraordinary is about to unfold. Something to **spice **things up. But I will allow our very own Seneca Crane deliver the news. You will be shocked… You will be thrilled and dare I say it? Joyful!"

The sky above me are filled with a close-up of Seneca's painted face. He looks excited and there's an odd glint in his eyes.

"Thank you Caesar. Yes. I have a most unusual announcement to give our fighting heroes." Here he pauses for dramatic effect and I can imagine us being shown on the holoscreen behind him; tired and dirty. "You have been so extraordinary that we have decided to make things a bit more interesting. Wouldn't you say?"

Seneca seems to be talking to the people and by the responding noise they are overjoyed by what will happen next. The cautious side of me comes awake and I draw an arrow while he speaks. If it's not what I hope I want to be ready for whatever surprised the Gamers' has come up with.

"Well... In celebration for the up and coming **Quarter-quell**, (and won't that be existing.)" Again a sea of screams and applauds rings over us.** "**We, your beloved Capitol, have decided to change the rules a bit. A change never before done..." Here he pauses for the shouts to settle. "Hurm, hurm. From this day -onwards- if two tributes from the same district find themselves being the last survivors they will share the victor. That's right everyone, instead of just one victor we will have two."

Joyful cheers explode across the sky, but the words spoken has me dumfounded. I close my eyes. _*It worked.* _I don't know how or why, but Peeta and I will be given another chance. I don't have to die.

I quickly run back to Peeta. Gliding on my side into the cave and fall into his open arms. We hug each other desperately. I hide my emotions in his neck, refusing to let the others see how conflicted I feel. I want to live, but at the same time I feel guilty for playing the others. For placing them in position where they died and I lived.

"It's okay. It's okay." Peeta whispers to me, like he now the joy and guilt I feel at the same time. I draw back and look at him. Silently asking him if it really is. If it's really okay to let children die because I want my sister to live; because I want us to live. "It's you and I remember."

I don't stop the kiss that followed, but I don't deepen it. Too many question weigh me down and I can't draw any pleasure from it. Separating slowly I hold up the fish for him to see. He cooks them while I sit outside, looking at the sky trying to find my answers.

What happened to my resolve? To my plan? To my calm? When had I lost all semblance of control? All of these questions comes down to **Rue**. It was her death; both of them, which made me lose control over my emotions. That allowed the anger, doubt and fear to swallow me hold. Even now it was weighing me down. My therapist would say I had survivals guilt, which made me struggle with the happiness, when so many others was left grieving. A common factor amongst victims and soldiers. I didn't believed him then because I'm not that good of a person, but now I wonder if you just had to be _-not bad_\- to suffer from it. After all I'm taking on all these death that I can't stop as if it's my fault they're happening.

So what I need is to allow myself to pause. To not feel everything as I have and focus on the now. Too much have been about the future - the one I came from and the one ahead. So I pause Rue, I pause the Capitol and I pause the Game: instead I join Peeta by the dying fire and eat some fish- pretending that we're two teenagers having a date. I might even go bathing later.


	18. Chapter 27

_This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvelous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with._

_I make no profit..._

**Chapter 27**

It's much later when I leave the cave. My stomach is full and I'm no longer thirsty. I circle to look for danger, unable to let it all go. When nothing is detected I find a private spot and take a bath. I desperately need one. Peeta stays in the cave to rest. The fish gave him some energy, but he needs sleep the most if he's to prevent an infection. I'm already worried that it's too late, but refuse to think about it.

After getting clean I scout the area. I find the best trees to climb and the best bushes to hide in, but the price of the day is some blue mushrooms and silver-moss. Both has healing properties and are extremely rare. I wonder if they were here before or if the Gamemakers planted them. I present the trophies to Peeta upon my return. I clean his arm again and place the moss on his wounds while he eats the mushrooms. He insist that I have some, so I reluctantly eat a few. Afterwards there still some daylight hours left, which we spend snuggled down and resting. I hear the cameras buzzing above us, but ignore them.

I wake to a setting sun and a shivering Peeta. During our sleep he got significantly worse and I have a hard time waking him. I force cold liquid into him and bath his skin, but it doesn't help. Turning towards the cameras I try to look as desperate as I feel. I've already received plenty of gifts, but perhaps I can get one more. He needs it. When nothing comes I force myself to think, to find alternative solutions. What do I have?

The forest is rich if you know what you need so I start searching high and low for natural healing plants. I manage to find some Tracker Jacker leaves to draw out the pus. But nothing to fight the infection or fever and it's getting worse. He's developing blue lines along his arms. He will die in less than a day.

In desperation I have one final thing to try, but it could kill me. It's very painful remedy, but I'm out of options. He won't even wake anymore. I rest my head against his arm while pulling the bow towards me.

"I will be back." I whisper. "Stay alive." Leaving the cave is hard. Putting out the fire even more so, but anyone can find him if I let it burn.

Since I know where the Cornucopia is I can take a guess in what direction my prey will be. It won't take me to long, I should be back before daybreak. I jog through the forest, careful with my steps. Only pausing long enough to make certain my trail is hidden. After a while I come to the swamp that almost killed me and circle around. After a few more kilometers I reach my goal. It couldn't have taken more than two hours. I hear the drone of Tracker Jackers before I see them. Making my way to the hive I circle it a few time. There's not a lot of activity so there might be a chance.

I retreat to the small part of the river and dip myself in the water, its icing cold. Afterwards I roll myself in a thick layer of mud and dirt. It itches and stink, but it will keep me protected from their stings. I make sure that every part of myself is covered. Then I find a big sturdy stick for a club and strap it around my waist. When done I start climbing. Every step is carefully calculated, my eyes never leaving the hive.

After a long climb I reach a baring branch. It's the same one that saved me from the careers in the other timeline. Patting it once I keep climbing. When I'm leveled with the hive I squirm along its branch, this one slimmer. My weight has it groaning softly, but it quiets. The Tracker jackers flying about come to investigate. I hold my breath. Some of them get stuck in the mud, but the others finds me harmless and flies away. I keep moving. Soon I'm close enough to knock the hive down.

I slowly swing the club around. With quick movement I have it raised and falling. All my strength placed in that one hit. With a loud dong it hits dead center and the hive wobbles before it falls. The Tracker Jackers start swarming out; looking for the attacker. I drop the club and cling to the branch. Making myself as small and invisible as possible. The hive explodes below me and Tracker Jackers covers the ground with their angry buzz. I stay well hidden and protected by the treetops while they seek revenge. I don't move until the last buzz dies out and only then to peek around for strays. When the area is deemed safe enough I climb down.

Hurrying over I start breaking the hive apart, looking for the treasures inside. I collect pieces of inner wall and some larva's, both have healing properties and will help against infection and blood-poisoning. Its Peeta's only hope right now, **if **I can make it back alive. As far as Panem is concerned only the Capitol knows about the Tracker Jackers uses, if the Gamemakers are warned of my plan I'll be dead in an instant. I must reach Peeta before then.

Hopefully Snow's asleep.

Hopefully the people watching are idiots.

Hopefully the arenas traps has stopped working.

But I'm not very hopeful so I don't stop to rest. I run across the forest, not wasting time being careful. If another tribute comes across me they're most likely sent by the Gamemakers, thus making speed preferred over sneaking. I'm forced to slow down at the swamp and only because of the natural dangers it contains. Amazingly nothing happens and I reach the cave safely shortly before sunrise. Tired and exhausted I fall into a heap next to Peeta. I check on his vitals and find him breathing. Relieved that he has survived I set to work.

His fever has gotten worse and he's getting dehydrated so first I try to cool him down and get him some water. Both are tricky to do, but I manage. When he doesn't look as _dead _I start chewing the larva and the walls, spitting out the go and placing it in his mouth and rub his throat. Forcing him to swallow the vile paste is necessary since I can't make it into a liquid form and give him a shot.

Its tedious work that continues until the sun shines down our hiding hole. There's nothing more I can do for him now, it's all up to him. Since all that is left to do is sleep and wait I climb out to clean myself of. The dried mud is driving me crazy, it itches so much that I'm ready to peel my skin of. The water is freezing cold, but I walk right into it and stay there until the mud has been swept away. To warm myself I make a fresh fire, making sure that it's deep enough so no the smoke will show.

Without meaning to I fall asleep in front of the fire, too tired to stop it. I don't know how long I sleep, but when I open my eyes next the sun is high on the sky and all is calm around me. Getting up on tired legs I go to check on Peeta, stumbling as I walk since my legs are too tired to work properly. I'm surprised they working at all, my body has been through a lot of trauma these last few days and yet I'm still standing. If I survive this I vow to eat nothing but fat food and sleep for a week.

Peeta is resting peacefully where I left him and for a dreadful second I believe him dead, but then he takes a deep breath and grumbles. Studying his arm I see that the blue lines has disappeared and the redness around his wounds has gone down, but he's still not awake and that concerns me. I re-wash the wounded area and his face, trying to clear away the dirt and sweat. Then I start the battle once again and try to get some water into him, this time he can swallow by himself which makes the process much easier.

With nothing else to do I decide to go fishing, we both need meat and I'm starving. I captured some smaller fishes and grill them, Peeta just spits his out so I give it up as hopeless. It's as I check his body for the fifth time since waking that he opens his eyes.

"I'm a risk." It's the first words he manage to say and I give him some water for his parched throat. Relief fills me as I watch him drink.

"Hi you." I say and caress his wounded arm, ignoring what he had said.

"You... You should head out on your own." He manage to get out. I hush at him and hand him some left over fish.

"Never, so stop talking about it." I reply before kissing his forehead. It's burning hot. "Eat some of this, I haven't manage to get anything truly soiled into you."

"I won't make it and you have a better chance if you just leave me." He stops when I put my finger across his mouth, silencing him.

"But I won't and you're too weak to make me." I snap before turning away. Angry at him for not dropping it even if it was expected. The self-sacrificing fool. My behavior gets me a tired chuckle.

"How about a kiss then?" He gets out and makes a pouty mouth. Like he's expecting a refusal. Shaking my head a give him a hard kiss. I hear the cameras zoom in.

"You didn't have to." Peeta mumbles as a blush spreads over his face when I pull away.

"Peeta. It's a lot of things I don't _have _to do, that doesn't mean I don't _want _to do them so please shut up and get better." I tell him and pinch his nose. It makes him laugh at me.

"You stink at the whole comforting thing, you know that right?" He jokes and I sniff at him in fake anger.

"Get that from someone else. I only hand out frowns and death-glares." I give him the grumpiest face that I can muster and it has him cracking up. Good, mom always said that laughter was the best medicine.

"You're good at being the _protector_." He manages to say before he starts coughing from the effort. I hurry to some more water, I spill most of it but it's enough to stop the attack.

"Why were you at the Cornucopia?" He asks me when he can speak again without choking.

"I needed food." I reply.

"Lie. Try again." I look at him for a good long while, he will fall asleep again shortly, the effort to talk taking most of his energy. Therefore I decide to keep it simple.

"You weren't safe anymore. I planned to get you out… Somehow."

"Truth, but not all of it." He mumbles before his eyes fall shut and sleep claims him. Being to worn down to fight with me. I quietly get up and sneak out.

"You see too much for your own good." I whisper while stretching, shaking of the fact that Peeta can read me so well.

I try to wake him a few hours later I, but I only get grunts. His fever has gotten worse, but the infection seems to have disappeared. The Tracker Jackers has given him more time, but it wasn't enough. He needs more medicine, _better _medicine. As another night falls I curl up next to him and hold his head in my arms, burying my face in his hair and fall asleep with his panting breathe filling my ears.

I wake several times to him shaking and screaming at hallucinations. I do my best to ease his pain. I knew it was coming. You don't ingest Tracker Jackers-larva without payback. He will have cramps, nightmares and fits for some time, but it pass before dawn. All I can think about as I hold him through the visions is: The game must end soon or I will lose him.

The sun finally rises and on tired feet I stumble down to the water and drink. The night had been awful, but I had gotten some sleep. Unfortunately Peeta's condition was the same and I needed for something to happen so he could get professional help.

When I've gotten a small fire going Capitol trumpets echoes over the arena. I wait for the message, already planning what to do if there's medicine to collect by the Cornucopia. I ignore Claudius Templesmith initial greeting and listen carefully to the announcement. He keeps it short and to the point. They have placed three bags at the Cornucopia, which each contains that we need the most. I don't even try to wake Peeta. The bow is in my hands and I secure the arrows to my belt; I head out as the message comes to an end.

To sneak pass Cato and Clove or even face them I need back up. Peeta's out which leaves Thresh. Which means I need to find him _before _he arrives at the meadow. In the first timeline he had his nest amongst the high grass, not far from the Cornucopia. If I want to proposition him I need to run to get ahead.

I keep up a steady pace and when I start to near the meadow I look for tracks. I find traces of Clove's tiny feet and some that must be Cato's. I avoid those and head to the side and towards the grass-field. The first trace is some crushed mushrooms, they're still fresh and points toward the Cornucopia. I'm close. Running while crouching, in zick-zack patterns, I try to stay out of sight.

I find Thresh when his less than five minutes away from the meadow. He was hard to spot, but thankfully he still has his jacket on and it has some color which clash with its surroundings. I make sure to have an arrow strapped on the string before calling out, the end pointing at his heart. If he tries to attack I will kill him.

"Hello Thresh."

He freezes solid and slowly lift his brown eyes to meet mine. I'm standing too far away. His machete won't reach me, not even if he throws.

"Twelve." He decides to say, not relaxing his posture.

"I'm not here to kill you." He doesn't believe me. "I really need that bag out there, but can't get it alone. Cato's on a warpath."

"So you want a partner." He sounds more at ease now. I readjust the grip on the bow.

"No, I want an **ally**. At least long enough to get the bags. You willing?" I snappishly said.

"Will you kill me otherwise?" Thresh believes me weak and I almost shoots him because of it.

"I'm thinking about it." I'm said with anger burning in my eyes. It's the thought of his family that has me holding the arrow. He studies me for a moment before nodding.

"Okay. We keep a distant, don't talk and just get this done." We don't shake on it and I never remove the arrow. We both walk with a lot of air between us, both ready to attack if the alliance falls apart.

The meadow appears to be abandoned, but Clove must be waiting in the Cornucopia while Cato's circling the forest line. I would be much more comfortable if we had a plan, but I'm not risking my life by walking closer to Thresh. We hesitate for a while longer, but in the end his patience grows thin and Thresh breaks the forest line. I follow.

Three poles stick up in front of the opening. Each one with a backpack showing a number; 2, 11 and 12. While Thresh walk forward I turn around and watch the trees. He grabs his before moving, he turn to the forest and I walk up to my number. Now for the tricky part. If I lower the bow Thresh might attack. I glance at his back and wonder what to do.

"What's the problem?" he asks and turns around. For a second both of us forget to watch our back and that's when they strike. A knife sails at me and clip me over the head, blood and pain blind me as I shout.

I hide behind the pole and fire of an arrow blindly. I rip some grass free and wipe my eyes. I look for Thresh and find him on the ground holding his knee. A spear stick out of it.

Clove runs out from the Cornucopia while Cato breaks the tree lines. Both are in golden armors, leaving only the face free. Thresh grabs hold of his machete and swing at Cato who raises his sword. They slam into one another. I jump away as Clove round the pole and aims at me. Crawling on my hands and knees I try to pull another arrow free, but she kicks me in the side. Before I can get my breath she's upon me. I try to use the bow to fend her off, but it glides over the armor.

Clove is scratching, stabbing and biting at me. In turn I'm squirming, grabbing at her wrist and kicking. Everything to give me an edge. I manage a hit that breaks her nose, she falls backwards screaming and it give me the chance to grab and arrow and aim it. I let it fly and it hits her straight in the eye. She falls dead to the ground.

Painting and holding my side I look towards the boys. Thresh is badly wounded and Cato's winning. He stands over Thresh, holding his blade to his throat and laughing. Thresh tries to get away, but the blade sinks in and leaves a read line across his throat. He spews blood while Cato takes a step back. Two cannons goes off.

So it will come down to us two. I raise the bow and aim it at him. Taking a big breathe I place a bow on the string and pull back. He's laughing at me.

"That won't work." he shouts, eyes filled with bloodlust and madness.

"It did on her." I calmly says and only then does he see Clove's body, lying still on the ground. He pauses, as if he's having problem understanding. Then he snaps out of it and charges. I let the arrow fly but he move out of the way. I run away from him while drawing another arrow. I try to aim better, but he's protecting his face, leaving me no clear shut.

"Your mine twelve." He screams before plowing into me. I crash into the ground, my head smacking against it. Everything rings and I lose sight for a moment. He hold the blade over my heart.

"I win." He whispers.

I look to the sky, watching the clouds pass over us. I'm going to die is my last thought before the blade pears my skin.

"DON'T you dare..." The words come from behind us and next there's a spear poking out of Cato's chest. He stares at it in surprise and lets the swords falls to the side.

Cato holds the shaft between his hands, pulling on it as if to check if it's real. Another hand is placed on his shoulder and pushes him to the side. Behind him Peeta stands, panting and looking dead on his feet.

"Peeta." I get out.

"Katn..." He starts before falling to his knees. Ignoring my own pain I roll onto my stomach and crawl towards him.

"How? You were unconscious? What happened" My questions come in a rapid pace and he kisses me silent.

"I wish I had gotten here sooner." He touches the wound going from my hairline and over the skull. I flinch in pain. His hand come away covered in blood. "We did it Katniss. We're going home."

Just then the last cannon goes off. Cato's dead. Only now do I realize we are the last tributes standing. I look into his eyes and start crying. I can't stop it. Peeta holds me while I cry, telling me that we'll be going home. Knowing what's to come makes his words unbearable so I crawl away from him and down to the lake. I lay in the water and let the blood flow around me. Peeta joins me after a while, looking concerned.

"What are they waiting for?" Peeta weakly asks. Instead of a reply from me Claudius Templesmith's voice booms into the arena. I draw in a deep breath and join Peeta by the shore.

"Greetings our final contestants. I have some dreadful news, it seems like an error has been made. In the original declaration of the Hunger Game it is written that only **one **winner can be crowned..." Peeta stares in shock, while another tear falls unwilling from my eye. "Good luck and _may the odds be ever in your favor_."

I sigh. Slowly I remove the bow and let it drop. It's joined by the arrows and two knives. Peeta stares at me.

"They can't do this." He whispers.

"Yes they can." Is my answer. There is no berries this time so Peeta will be the one to kill me. It hurts, knowing that I'll be forcing his hand, but I won't live with his blood on me.

"No," he says when he realize I'm leaving myself defenseless. "I can't. I won't."

"We have no choice. I've tried everything Peeta. It's either you or a mutt." I snap back, going for anger instead of kindness.

"Then you shoot me," He screams before falling to his knees. "You shoot me and go home!"

"If I could I would." That shuts him up. "I've a lot of death on my conscious. I can't be responsible for yours too. I refuse."

"You're not leaving me here, alone and alive." His words cut deep, but I don't move. The weapons lies before us. He plunged his hands down into his pocket and comes out with a crushed mess. His hand opens. Nightlock Berries.

"I will force you to live."

He raises the berries to his lips and I'm over him, battling for the poison he's trying to consume. But even in his weak state Peeta's stronger, soon I'm trapped under him. Our hands locked over the berries, its juice traveling down our arms. I stare at it and then on him. Finally seeing the chance he's unknowingly given us. I could have laughed if not for the anger in his eyes.

"Trust me." I whisper and remove my hand. He lowers his and leans back onto his heels. I crawl onto my knees. I hold up my hands, he pauses before placing three berries in the middle. The rest in his fist.

"Together" I lie, subtly drilling my left foot into the dirt to gain momentum if it doesn't work. In his state it will only take a light push and a swallow. I just need a second if the trumpets don't sound. We lift the berries together. He starts counting down, my foot digs deeper.

"One." I think of Prim. I might be leaving her, but no matter how bleak of a future - she still has the chance to live. Peeta and Gale will protect her. _*I can do this.*_

"Two."

"Three!" We lift our hands and as they touch my lips I get ready to push. A second later the trumpets begin to blare. Claudius Templesmith voice starts ringing over the arena. I knock the berries out of our hands.

"Stop! You have... passed the _test_. You are truly our victors. Ladies and Gentlemen may I introduce, for the first time in our history, the **two **victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"

Claudius words are forced, but he manages to convince the masses that this was a last minute ploy. A mere test. The capitol has managed to save their face. I don't argue it. Instead I make sure no berries passed Peeta's lips, or mine, while shouts and applauds penetrates through the speakers, overpowering Templesmith's words. Disbelief is a prominent emotion right about now. I can't believe that we both made it. **A second time.**

The hovercraft appears above us right after the broadcast. It lands by the Cornucopia and medics runs out to collect us. Peeta looks relieved when to hovering beds are lowered. He happily jumps on, while I'm more hesitant, but the nurses insist. We are strapped down and immobile before being transported onboard.

We are brought to the med station and are placed opposite of each other. A thick wall between us. One of the doctors has a mask covering his lower face and a white coat. He starts giving me different shots, two red ones and a green. A numb feeling sets over me before everything goes dark.


	19. Chapter 28

_This is a fanfic. The original work belongs to the marvelous Suzanne Collins and any other co-owner. You want to read a good story? Start with the original. This is merely my bad take of the story I've fallen in love with._

_I make no profit..._

**Chapter 28**

_I'm plagued with nightmares I can't wake up from. Images off Peeta dying on the gurney; Prim being blown up; Rue screaming my name as she get eaten by a mutt. The drugs trap me. Worse are the ones of Clove, Cato and Snow: nightmares about how I killed them or what they would have done if they'd lived. Those have me screaming and begging for mercy, but not a sound gets past my lips._

I'm kept under for 24 hours. Upon waking there's no peace and quiet to be had; no time to collect myself. Doctors, nurses and cameras are up in my face the moment my eyes flutter. It has me wincing in pain and bitterness while my body trembles like a leaf.

I'm cautious from the start since Haymitch is the first in line to greet me. That alone has me on guard. He's ordering the journalist to get out while he gives me a warning glare. Effie distracts the others while I try to figure out that he wants me to do. He barely mouths the words _weak _and _fire_. It has me nervous, but I get the meaning and start acting immediately. I pretend that I can't speak for the doctors and act weak for the nurses. When they ask me to move I make half-cries in pain and anguish, my muscles stiffer then in true agony. In the end Haymitch signals for me to thaw a bit. So suddenly I can speak. The doctors are all over me as I complain about my pains.

"Can you see alright?" One asks.

"How is your hearing?" Another jumps in with and so it goes. I don't give to straight answers, more like vague moans and odd hints.

Using the gap in people I try to have a silently conversation with Haymitch. There's more going on here than meets the eye or there wouldn't be so many doctors. I'm quick to notice the fear in his eyes and the constant glances towards the doors to the side. As one of the nurses leaves I glance through the opening and see several peacekeepers standing outside. Oh. Know I understand the fear. It grips me with its cold claws and digs in. Looking to Haymitch again I see the answer to the unasked question: _Why are they there?__ \- You angered the king, they're guarding your next move, play along if you wish to live_. So I do.

Subtly nodding his way I refocus on the doctor's around me. I'm start apologizing to the staff for my mood, blaming it on the recent trauma and stress, they gracefully accept it. After that I struggle to sit up and answer their question, trying to be more open and direct. A fake smile pasted over my face as they lay in on me. Haymitch starts relaxing and signals to Effie that he's checking up on Peeta. As I hear his name I force a half-gasp though my parched throat. One of the pinkly dresses nurse's hands me a cup of water and I drank it greedily. The cold water travels down my throat and I moan in relief.

"How's Peeta? It comes out as a whisper as I lower the cup, to my secret glee several of the staff looks smitten by my concern, even if Haymitch has to bite back a snort before he leaves.

"Peeta?" I repeat when no one answer, forcing out a tear by pinching my thigh as hard as I can. The sting almost makes me curse.

The people around me launch into an explanation. I can't take it all in, but what I do grasp is that he's fine and well. He had surgery and it was a couple of close calls there, but he came out alright. He's sleeping at the moment. I'm told that the wounds around his arms and abdomen had been bad; they had to replace a lot of muscles and nerves as well as dead flash, but nothing to bothersome. Nodding I pull up the cover.

"Thank you." I mumble while sliding down the bed. "Would it be alright if I slept? I'm very tired."

"Of course miss Everdeen. Everyone out." The head doctor said with a stern voice and soon there's only Effie left. Haymitch slips out with the others. She fluffs up a pillow and helps to bed me down.

"You did great out there dear. You're the star of the show and I'm very proud of you." With that said Effie sailed out the door and I'm finally alone. But I don't relax, there's bound to be cameras all around the room. To my amazement I eventually fall asleep, this time without as terrible nightmares.

The next time I wake it's to the sun blinding me. As I hold out an arm to shield them I feel the call of nature, a full bladder demanding a bathroom visit - NOW. Trying to sit up I look for the bathroom. My muscles protest the movement, but it feels good peeling of the hot covers. The room is large and done in white. There are three doors, one to the hall with the Peacekeepers; one to a closet, if the symbol on it is to be believed, and the last one to a bathroom. _*Thank you!*_

Pushing my feet off the bed and onto the cold tiles I cringe away. After some searching I find green slippers at the end of the bed that I hurry to slip on. After that I disconnect the five tubes that are attached to my neck, arms and stomach before shuffling to the bathroom. I moan in pleasure as I see its content. It has both a toilet and a shower. I use the toilet first before jumping into the shower. The white and black tiles are smooth and slippery, but there's a handle going around the small stall and I make sure to have a firm grip as I start the hot water. The mist rise in the room. Its pure pleasure for me and I stay under the spray for twenty minutes. When I get out my skin is red like a lobster.

The towels are brown and feel like sandpaper as I dry off, but they get the job down and soon I'm back in my bed and sipping a cup of cold water. Moment's later Haymitch steps into the room and grunts at me. I grunt back as he throws himself onto one of the leather chairs by the large window. After him two nurses appear and they reattached the needles and tubes while tutting at me. Their presence hinders us from talking to one another, but that might be a good thing if his tense shoulders are anything to go by. Something has happened.

The older one of the nurses stares at me in wonder while the younger goes on and one about my deeds in the game, distracting me from what the new threat might be. I want to cuss at them, but refrain. A female doctor comes in just as the pink haired nurse starts asking me whether or not Peeta's a good kisser, saving her from my harsh tongue. She orders the nurses to leave with a shout, making them both jump. As they slip out I study the newcomer. She's dressed in glimmering blue robes and her hair is made out of pearls. It's very odd, but I don't comment on it.

"Everything alright in here? I don't have time for nilly nallys..." Her stern eyes tell me that I better not complain about anything, so I don't. After a short pause she nods and goes over to the black machines hanging on the wall next to my bed. She studies the information on them before taking out a small stick and adding something onto a console. They to flat and far off that I can't see what it is, but a pleasant buzz soon comes over me: drugs. It has my lids going heavy and before I can protest she's out the door.

"Who was that?" I mumble out loud.

"The Dragon." Haymitch voice says from behind and I turn to look at him. "She's a force all in her own. Us tributes hate and fear her."

"I can see why." I agree, pausing before choosing my next words carefully. "Everything's good?"

"Could be better, could be worse. Time will tell." He answers.

Good. That means that I won't be killed in my sleep at least, but I better keep my head down or that will change. I nod in confirmation and Haymitch rolls his eyes at me.

"I must say that you surprised me in there. Many of the choices you made I didn't think you would." He goes on saying, truly curious. I can only imagine exactly which decision or act he was talking about; there was so many stupid once.

"Lost my head early on. That was nothing like I had expected. Totally lost my footing and tried to stay afloat… if that makes any sense." I tell him truthfully.

"It does to a point… can understand it at least, but there's hidden debts to you spitfire. More than I thought and others agree." He hums and gets up. An empty bottle of wine falls from his lap, it rolls over the floor. He ignores it while I watch it come to a stop by my bed. "You nickname suits you. It has started to echo. _The girl of fire_ \- appropriate don't you think?"

I cautiously nod, trying to figure out what he's really saying. Why bring up the title? It was already circling before the actual game.

"A lot of attention follows in its wake so be prepared for the time to come." Haymitch goes on saying, his tone light, but the words loaded with more meaning. "You're the **Capitols **favorite right now."

I suck on my teeth and try to hide the worry his words bring. I finally get the message and nervously grip the cover with my shaking fingers. There have been small rebellions in my name and _Snow _has noticed it, he has started to fear what I might become. There's still time to sooth his worry, but it's running out. Haymitch eyes sees the realization hitting home and he looks away, unwilling to deal with the fear taking hold of my body and mind.

"How did Peeta do?"

"He's right after you, sometimes even more popular. _The protecto_r - that's what they call him. Congratulations: you are now winners of the Games. Good luck to you." With that said Haymitch leaves the room and I let him. I spend the day going over his words, finding new meanings and messages in each word.

By the time night comes the staff has to drug me so I can sleep, my mind too worked up and anxious. It's not just me on the line; Peeta has also become a symbol now. The Protector. The word is loaded and with it the danger multiplies. It's not just me snow has to deal with now, Peeta is just as dangerous.

As sleep steals over me and the room starts to blur and go dark I'm forced to realize that both of us will become tools once again. Nothing I've done to try stopping it has worked, on the opposite really. I think I actually have made it worse for us. Greif claws at my soul as I see Peeta's bloodied face before me and then the fire that took my sister.

*_I can't stop it and now, after all the attempts to stay out, I've lost control.* _

My mind screams in anguish and pain.


End file.
